
Class _ 3 J J 0±J> 
Book_ ll' 



Gopyiight N° . 



ao3 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Character Building 

By C S. Coler, M. S. 

Cloth, Price, $1.00 

What we want to appear in character, we 
must put into our schools. If, as teachers and 
parents, we permit selfishness, dishonesty, and 
sham in children, we need not be surprised if we 
see these things in society and in the world, — 
From the Author's Preface. 

Contents 
I. Aims in Character Building 
II. Psychology of Character Building 
IIL Ethics of Character Building 
IV. Methods in Character Building 
V. Growth in Character 
VI. Habit, In Relation to Character Building 
VIE. Study, In Relation to Character Building 
VHL Education, In Relation to Character Building 
IX. The Parent, In Relation to Character Building 
X. Character and American Citizenship 
XI. Inspiring Thoughts and Helps 

The following subjects have been carefully 
considered by the author : Discipline, Acquisi- 
tion, Assimilation, Appreciation, Aspiration, Ex- 
pression, Consciousness, Will Power, Conscience, 
Duty, Methods of Teaching, Habit, and Moral 
Instruction. 

Several teachers have ordered copies for their 
pupils — others have used it as a text-book in the 
class-room. One teacher ordered twenty-four 
copies to present to her graduating class. 

Dr. W. H. Scott, Professor of Ethics and Psychology ir 
Ohio State University ', Columbus, 0. t in commenting upon 
the merits of the book, writes: " Your book on ' Character 
Building' is inspiring. I do not see how an intelligent young 
person can read it without being lifted into the realm of 
higher ideas and noble purposes. Every teacher will Jin J it 
full of help. 1 ' 

HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers 

31-33-35 West 15th St. New York City 

School Books of Aft Publishers at One Store 



Ethics for Schools 



Being a Treatise 

on 
The Virtues and their Reasons 



ESPECIALLY ADAPTED FOR USE 
IN HIGH SCHOOLS, ACADEMIES AND SEMINARIES 



BY 

AUSTIN BIERBOWER 

• i 

Author of " The Morals of Christ 11 



» ■■> » » 



New Revised EdJtAcvji 



HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers 
31-33-35 West 15th Street, New York City 






the library of 
congress. 

Two Copies Receiveo 

APR 20 1903 

Copyright Entry 

CLASS °~ XXc. No. 

COPY B. 



COPYRIGHT, 1888, BY GEORGE SHERWOOD & CO. 
COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY HINDS & NOBLE 






PREFACE. 



In this volume the author has succeeded in pro- 
viding for the teacher a text-book that may be used by 
his classes with results of a most practical kind. Moral 
training implies more than merely to catalogue the virtues. 
The true teacher will wish his pupils to know not only 
what the virtues are, but will also desire them to know 
the reasons which render beautiful, or wise, or even 
profitable, the practice of the virtues severally. u Be 
good and you'll be happy " is very well. But many a 
boy or girl who does not respond to this well-worn 
generality will consider seriously, if presented to him in 
simple, intelligible language, the advantage there is in 
acquiring, and holding fast to, a given virtue. 

This treatise then, designed for moral training in 
the public schools, and presenting the science of Ethics 
with its latest applications in lucid, untechnical language, 
aims especially to impress the practical bearing of the 
moralities in a manner that will convince young people 
of the reasonableness, the appropriateness, and the prac- 
ticability of each of the virtues. 



8 PREFACE. 

The author avoids those controversies, imported 
usually from other subjects, which do not properly 
belong to Ethics. 

Moral instruction is often excluded from the public 
schools on account of the different religions represented 
and the lack of text-books acceptable to all the sects. 
This exclusion has provoked assaults on our public school 
system which, if successful, might imperil its very exist- 
ence. In presenting systematically that morality which 
is common to all enlightened peoples, it really is not 
necessary to notice religious differences. So that this 
book may be used with equal approval by all of the 
sects, by the orthodox and the unorthodox. 

This volume is intended to supersede one by the 
same author entitled " The Virtues and Their Reasons/' 
which has been carefully revised in the preparation 
of this. 

Chicago, Jcmuary 1, 1902. 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTORY. 

Page. 

1. — A Practical Science - 17 

2.— Classification of Duties 19 



PART FIRST. 
DUTIES REGARDING OTHERS CHIEFLY. 

CHAPTEE FIEST. 

KINDNESS _ 23 

I. — In General 23 

1. Preliminary 23 

2. Love 26 

3. Sympathy 29 

4. Unselfishness 32 

II.— Special Loves.. 35 

1. Family Love 35 

2. Friendship 38 

3. Sentiment 39 

III.— Faithfulness 41 

IV. — Accommodation 42 

1. Deference 42 

2. Politeness 44 

3. Respect , 46 

V.— Beneficence 50 

1. Generosity 50 

2. Charity 53 

VI.— Forgiveness 56 

VII. — Regard for Feelings 58 

9 



10 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

Pass. 

VIII.— Opposite Feelings 61 

1. Insolence 61 

2. Conceit 62 

3. Disputatiousness 64 

4. Fault-finding 66 

IX. — Cheerfulness 70 

X.— Speaking Kindly of Others _ 75 

XI. — Thinking Kindly of Others. __ 79 

1. In General _ _ 79 

2. Confidence 80 

3. Gratitude .__ 80 

XII. — Vices Antagonistic 82 

1. Hate _ 82 

2. Envy 84 

3. Anger 86 

4. Cruelty 88 

(1). In General 88 

(2). PracticalJoking 89 

(3). Hazing 90 

(4). Dueling 91 

(5). Corporal Punishment . 94 

(6). Cruelty to Animals 95 

a. In General 95 

b. Sport .•—- 97 



CHAPTER SECOND. 

Page. 

TRUTH 100 

I. — Veracity 100 

II.— Candor 105 

III. — Prejudice 107 

IV.— Bigotry 110 

V. — Hypocrisy Ill 

VI.— Perjury 112 

VII.— Bribery 114 



CONTENTS. 11 

CHAPTEE THIBD. 

Page. 

HONESTY 115 

L— In General __ 115 

II.— Theft... 117 

III.— Cheating __ 118 

IV. — Employer and Employe .-_ 121 

V.— Promises _ 123 

VI.- -Gambling.. _ 126 

1. In General 126 

2. Raffling. _ 127 

3. Parlor Games 128 

4. Betting 130 

5. Speculation 131 

VII.— Blackmail __ _. 132 

VIII.— Reparation 133 

CHAPTEE FOUETH. 

FAMILY DUTIES -. __ _ 135 

CHAPTEE FIFTH. 

PUBLIC DUTIES-.. - ~~ 137 

I.— Principles _ , 137 

1. In General 137 

2. Equality __ 138 

3. Liberty... 140 

(1). In General — 140 

(2). Tolerance _. 143 

(3). Persecution _ 145 

(4). Strikes ._ ..- _ 146 

(5). Anarchism _ 147 

(6). Socialism 149 

II.— Patriotism 151 



12 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

Page. 

III.— Special Duties 153 

1. Taxes 153 

2. Jury Duty _ 154 

3. Military Duty 155 

4. Public Education 157 

5. Voting.. 159 

(1). In General 159 

(2). Party „ 161 

(3). Election Frauds 162 

(4). Intimidation 164 

6. Submission to Authority 165 

7. Rioting 166 

IV. — Cosmopolitanism 167 

V. — Care for Posterity 169 



PAKT SECOND. 
DUTIES REGARDING SELF CHIEFLY. 



CHAPTER SIXTH. 

Fags. 

SELF DEVELOPMENT 173 

I.— Education - 173 

1. In General 173 

2. Physical Training 177 

3. Health Keeping 179 

II. — Courage 181 

III. — Independence 185 

IV. — Large-Mindedness -- — - 186 

V. — Ideality 188 

CHAPTEE SEVENTH. 

INDUSTRY 190 

I— Energy 190 

II. — Perseverance _. 195 

III. —Decision - 200 

IV. — Earnestness 204 

CHAPTEE EIGHTH. 

SELF SUPPORT...,., 206 

13 



14 THE VIKTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

CHAPTEE NINTH. 

Page. 

SELF CONTROL .-_. 209 

L— Will Power 209 

II. — Prudence _ 212 

III. — Self Restraint _ 215 

1. Moderation 215 

(1). In General 215 

(2). Gluttony 217 

(3). Amusements 220 

(4). Cupidity 222 

(5). Self^Sacrince 224 

2. Patience _ 226 

3. Modesty 228 

4. Demeanor _ 229 

IV. — Selecting Thoughts ._ 232 

1. In General 232 

2. Reading 235 

V. — Habit Making _ 237 

CHAPTEE TENTH. 

TEMPERANCE.... 240 

I. — In General 240 

II. — Moderate Drinking 243 

III. — Teaching to Drink _ M6 

IV. — Prohibition 248 

V. — Opium, Cocaine, Etc _ _ 250 

VI.— Tobacco 251 

CHAPTEE ELEVENTH. 

SELF RESPECT 253 

I.— Honor 253 

II. — Chivalry... 255 



CONTENTS. 15 

Page. 

IH.— Dignity... 257 

IV.— Pride 258 

V. — Neatness 259 

VI. — Cleanliness _ 260 

VII. — Vices Antagonistic _._ 262 

1. Meanness 262 

2. Cowardice.. 266 

3. Jealousy 269 

4. Vulgarity « 272 

(1). Coarseness 272 

(2). Profanity.. 273 

(3). Slang '. 1 275 

5. Morbidness 276 

CHAPTER TWELFTH. 

PURITY 278 

CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. 

CONSCIENTIOUSNESS 283 

I. — In General _ 283 

II. — Integrity 286 

III. — Scrupulousness _ 288 

IV. — Artificial Duties 290 

V.— Conflicting Duties 292 



INTRODUCTORY. 

1.— A PEACTICAL SCIENCE. 

Ethics, Moral Philosophy, or the Science of Duty, 
contemplates that course which we call right and deem 
best. It reaches to all conduct, since there is a best 
way of doing everything, and it is wrong to act differ- 
ently. Some cases of right and wrong, however, are 
so generally recognized as to be specially known as 
virtues and vices, and with these the science of Morals 
has chiefly to do. 

We recognize right by our judgment of what is 
best, and by a feeling — conscience — which indicates, 
as the result of many impressions, what we ought to 
do, and impels us thereto. 

As to what constitutes right, thinkers differ; some 
maintaining it to be a course in harmony with the 
necessary order of things ; others, the will of God, as 
revealed in Revelation or Nature ; others, utility, hap- 
piness, or the general good of mankind. This ques- 
tion leads into Speculative Philosophy, which we shall 
not here enter. It is enough now to observe that, 
whatever men's opinions touching the ground of right, 

2 I? 



18 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

they all deem those things right which are thought 
best for men, and consider that course morality which 
will bring them most happiness. 

Accordingly, when people are asked to do right, 
they are asked simply to do what is best for them- 
selves. Duty never conflicts with interest, if rightly 
understood; but it must be the interest of all, and not 
of self only, and one's whole interest, and not a part 
only. One man's welfare rarely conflicts with an- 
other's, if his entire welfare is taken into account, and 
not a present advantage only, or narrow view of advan- 
tage. All our interests, when taken together, harmo- 
nize with the like interests of our fellows, and the 
conduct which conduces to this general advantage is 
the subject of Ethics. 

It will appear from these discussions that every 
special virtue secures some good to the individual 
practicing it, as well as to others; so that morality is 
simply good living, or conduct in harmony with the 
laws which conduce to the advantage of society. Each 
man's conduct, to be moral, must be for the good of 
all, of which he himself is one. As most of one's 
advantages come from society, his interest, like that of 
others, requires society to be well conducted, so that 
his duties to others reflect back in advantages to self. 

Though we often fail to see the advantage of virtue 
to self, or even to others, a wider view, or deeper 



INTRODUCTORY. 19 

insight, discloses the fact that no virtue is without its 
advantage, and no vice without its punishment; and, 
though we can not ordinarily have in mind the reason 
of morality, but must act from the general rules of 
virtue, or from conscience, the reason is always to be 
had when sought. As every virtue stands on a foun- 
dation of reason, as well as of advantage, the impulses 
of Conscience have all a ground in our intelligence. 
At least the virtues here discussed (which are univers- 
ally recognized as duties) will be seen to have a suffi- 
cient reason in some advantage to the parties con- 
cerned. 

2.— CLASSIFICATION OF DUTIES. 

We here divide duties into two general classes : 

I. Duties Regarding Others Chiefly. 
II. Duties Regarding Self Chiefly. 

As the duties to others, however, have, as just 
stated, an advantage also to self, and those to self 
have an advantage also to others, the classes here 
made are not strictly exclusive. 

The same is true of the smaller subdivisions. The 
virtues so overlap, and run into one another, as to make 
up one morality, instead of separate and independent 
virtues. Any one of them, if followed to its remotest 
connections, will be found to involve all the rest, and 



20 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

if fully set forth, to exhibit the whole ; for the laws by 
which they are regulated are universal. The dissection 
of morality into its members would destroy its life, did 
we not recognize the division to be only mental, and so 
preserve its unity. 

In the first class, however, are placed those duties 
which more immediately contemplate others, and in the 
second those which chiefly affect self. 



PART FIRST. 

DUTIES REGARDING OTHER? OHIEFLI. 



CHAPTER FIRST. 

KINDNESS. 



I. 
IN GENEKAL. 

1.— PRELIMINARY. 

There are some general conditions of thought and 
feeling which lie at the foundation of all morals, and 
constitute what may be called moral states, as kind- 
ness, love and sympathy — terms nearly synonymous, 
which express the feeling with which we should regard 
our fellow men. We shall treat, in the first chapter, 
of this general state of good feeling under the head of 
Kindness, which embraces, in its widest sense, all the 
rest. It has, however, like the other terms, its 
special meaning, distinguishing it from them, which 
we shall also note. 

First, then, of kindness, or heart-tenderness, as a 
general state. 

Kindness, or love, which is the sum of all the vir- 
tues, is the feeling of benevolence which the good man 
has toward all men, desiring their welfare and sorrow- 
ing for their misfortune. Underlying virtue generally, 

23 



24 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

and itself the chief special virtue, it tends, in its wide 
results, toward all moral ends. Dominated by it, one 
can do no wrong, since every wrong can be resolved 
into some unkindness, and will tend to all good, since 
every good is kind. As good- will to men it would end 
war, oppression, dishonesty, deceit and impurity, and, 
instead, would make men feel like brothers, with a 
common interest and mutual preference. Eevolting 
from every wrong as repulsive, it tends to every virtue 
as inclination ; so that it would suffice, as already said, 
to exhaust the whole subject of this treatise, if ade- 
quately presented. 

The kind man, being good at heart, does good 
spontaneously, impelled thereto by his nature, with 
little need of consideration or effort. Good by im- 
pulse, he has but to see pain to want to relieve it, to 
know wrong to want to right it, and, in general, to 
see an opportunity for good to want to embrace it. 
Instead of waiting to be convinced in order to have a 
benevolent purpose, he unerringly flies to the right on 
feeling, which is quicker than thought. 

The chief characteristic of kindness is a participa- 
tion in others' pleasures and pains — rejoicing in 
their happiness and suffering in their sorrows. As if 
feeling with others' hearts, the kind man has a life in 
common with many, being actuated by the sentiment 
which makes mankind one. Appreciating all life as 



KINDNESS. 25 

his own, he is in unity with nature, and, feeling what 
is remote, he enlarges himself by bringing the world 
within his grasp ; so that the kind man is deemed one 
of "great soul" — big-hearted and liberal-minded — 
incapable of anything mean on which vice can take 
hold. 

This being so, it becomes the object of Ethics to 
engender this kindly feeling as the most general guar- 
antee of morality, and so io pursue our good intentions 
with the force of good feeling. This may be done by 
concentrating the will unswervingly upon it, and keep- 
ing the resolution to be continually kind. 

Kindness greatly multiplies our enjoyments, as one 
thereby not only enjoys his own pleasures, but those 
of others, and so is practically rich, since what belongs 
to all is also his; for in the only sense that one can 
really have anything — in enjoying it — he has all 
things ; whereas, one who can enjoy only what is his 
own is poor, as no man's possessions are alone enough 
for happiness. 

Kindness in itself is also a pleasurable feeling. 
We can not love others without being ourselves happy, 
it being the nature of love to be happy. For, though 
love is of others, the feeling is in us, so that while we 
think of them we enjoy the feeling ourselves ; as the 
flame in the lantern, which lights the outside, also, at 
the same time, heats the lantern. 



26 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

2— LOVE. 

Kindness is nearly synonymous with love, so that 
love, in its widest sense, has already been discussed. 
But kindness takes many forms, like water, which may 
be snow, or dew, or clouds. Under love we speak 
specially of warmth of feeling for others. Kindness 
may be cold or hot ; it may take on the form of tender- 
ness or concern; it may show itself as sweetness, 
politeness or charity ; but when it is on fire we call it 
love. 

Love, being thus of many varieties and degrees, 
can appear as an enthusiastic sympathy for any class 
— for parents, brothers, sisters, children, friends, 
lovers, or for the world. The loving nature has a 
warm feeling for whoever is thought about, and good 
will may be as extensive as thought. For love is the 
most perfect sympathy with man, and though we may 
love special ones when we think of them, we should 
love all when all are contemplated. As the sun warms 
whatever it shines on, we should send out our warmth 
of feeling to all of whom we think, making compassion 
ever accompany attention. 

For, we need no more be indifferent to any than 
hate them, and we would not, if we understood their 
thoughts and feelings, which would, instead, call for 
sympathy. The demands for self are not sufficient 
to exclude thought for the race. Men have always 



LOVE. 27 

time to love, which is the only duty that goes to all, 
and which Christ characterized as all duty. The 
spirit of love is to be always in a condition to feel 
warmly toward others, so that when they are brought 
to our attention our affections will embrace them. 
Action, moreover, should flow from love as its most 
general source, and be the expression of a desire to do 
good to somebody — family, friends, country or the 
world — which embraces nearly all the virtues. 

Everybody, then, should love, and in that love 
should not confine himself to one person or one kind 
of love. One can, without much virtue, love a lover, 
or attractive person of the opposite sex, but if love go 
no farther, it is only passion. He should love with 
warmth his relatives, friends, country and, if he has a 
soul great enough, the world. The true lover is a 
Jover of many. One can not love one well who loves 
one only, his affections not having exercise enough to 
be strong or pure. We should love especially those 
who need our love, and not merely those who can 
command it. 

If one has no great love for men, or concern for 
their welfare, he should cultivate it by thinking of them 
more, and understanding them better. For one can 
not know another well without loving him. The word 
"acquaintance" is nearly synonymous with "friend." 
All we know we are interested in, and the more inti- 



28 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

mate we become the more friendly we are. Cynicb 
and Pessimists, who love least, are mostly recluses, 
who see men through reports, instead of face to face. 
Nobcdy can be unkind to one whom he well knows, 
most vices being, as Plato says, the result of igno- 
rance. 

It is our duty, therefore, to know men well enough 
to love them. After we thoroughly love a few, we find 
ourselves gradually loving all, or enlarging our inter- 
est in mankind ; for nothing grows faster than love, or 
spreads wider, its exercise driving out hate and break- 
ing down barriers of separation. Love will generally 
keep pace with knowledge, being a harmony with na- 
ture as much as is truth. 

Love, moreover, has its own enjoyment, like 
kindness generally. While it does most for others, it 
self-enjoys. Its feeling is the pleasantest in our na- 
ture, and the greatest good known. It goes farthest 
to make happiness, and is itself the most unmixed 
happiness ; for love can not coexist with misery, but 
expels pain as it does hate. It is synonymous with 
"feeling good," and is the most lasting and least 
wearing of pleasures. Enjoyment in eating can be 
had but three times a day, and then but a little while. 
The pleasures of drunkenness are only occasional, and 
are followed by pain, like the pleasures contained in 
all the vices. Love's pleasures, however, are intense 



SYMPATHY. 29 

without being exhausting, and reach from childhood 
to age. Endless in variety, too, they can coexist 
without jealousy or mutual limitation. For love of 
wife, child, brother, friend, countryman, race and an- 
imals can all be felt at once. 

To build up a loving nature 3 therefore, is a sure 
way to happiness, as well as to virtue, as one then 
carries most of the conditions of happiness with him. 
Others are worth more to him if he loves, and he is 
worth more to himself. He is also more apt to be 
loved, since a loving nature, expressing itself in the 
face and conduct, is pieasing to others, so that love is 
reflected back as love. 

3.— SYMPATHY. 

Sympathy is another synonym for kindness, cover- 
ing nearly the same ground. We use it here specially 
to emphasize that feature of kindness which enters 
into others' feelings and enjoys or suffers their states, 
rejoicing with the happy and suffering with the sad, 
as if one's feelings were not all in himself, but his 
nerves ran outside of him to report back to his heart 
the pains and pleasures of others. 

Sympathy is sensitiveness to the consciousness that 
is in the world, or a flowing of our souls into all life, by 
which a oneness of feeling is realized. It takes on 
others' moods, feels the pleasures and pains in others' 



30 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

bodies, makes us larger than ourselves — a part of 
humanity — and, reminding us that we are not, as 
individuals, entirely separate, renders us sensitive, as 
well as conscious, of the oneness of the race. 

A sympathetic man can not see another smile with- 
out smiling, the expressions of the face being catching. 
One's readiness to follow others' feelings, and be at one 
with them, is the great reconciler of the race. There 
is a natural tendency in men to feel together, as well 
to co-operate together, feeling uniting them as much 
as opinion divides them; so that the charities make 
men brothers when their differences would make them 
enemies. For it is easier to make one of your feeling 
than of your mind, more being persuaded by senti- 
ment than by argument. A leader has but to show 
feeling to have followers, a heart disclosed causing 
other hearts to cluster about it. 

It is of the first importance, then, to have a lively 
sense for others, and to enter strongly into their feel- 
ings. Did we thoroughly feel with men we should 
rarely be displeased with them, as contact with feel- 
ings begets approval, instead of antagonism. Two 
minds coming together as naturally love as two elec- 
tric currents make light, and to enter into close rela- 
tions with other minds is the greatest guarantee of 
morality, as of love. 

Learn, then, to live in others, feeling as they do, 



SYMPATHY. 31 

and so to possess their means of happiness as well as 
your own. One who carries others' burdens carries 
also their pleasures, and gets strength enough from 
their joys not to feel grievously their misfortunes. 
The sympathetic man takes to others something to 
make pleasure for himself, for, in rejoicing with them, 
and for them, the joy, which is in himself, is pleasure 
to him, notwithstanding the object of it is without. 
To enjoy others enlarges the sphere of one's enjoy- 
ment, carrying him out over more life, and making 
more of the world sensitive to him. A great man has 
thus great pleasures, as well as great thoughts, sym- 
pathy being the principal source of the enlargement of 
pleasure. 

He who feels most takes most of nature up into 
himself, and thus enlarges himself by additions from 
the outside world. One is as large as the space which 
his sympathy covers, appropriating as much as he 
loves. Where indifference or hate commences his 
limitations begin, and beyond that he is not. 

Sympathy, moreover, begets sympathy, starting its 
kind wherever it goes. We naturally return love for 
love, as the mirror reflects light, so that the sympa- 
thetic ones are the loved ones. To awaken an interest 
one must show an interest. Love, like a telegraphic 
current, flows two ways. Sympathy, going in circles, 
alights wherever there is something sympathetic to 



32 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

conduct it; so that it is important for morals, as for 
happiness, to be in the current of others' feelings, and 
feel along with the race. 

4. -UNSELFISHNESS. 

Sympathy runs naturally into unselfishness, which 
is but another synonym for kindness. It is the nature 
of all love to be self -forgetful, and under this negative 
form we shall consider it. 

Unselfishness does not consist in neglecting self, 
but in thinking much of others, and, though to give 
attention to others is, to that extent, to withdraw it 
from self, this alone is not the virtue meant, but may 
be simply inconsiderateness. The spirit of unselfish- 
ness is to be ever ready to consider others and bene- 
fit them without thought of self. 

Unselfishness is not necessarily self-sacrifice, but, 
as it is to our advantage to be unselfish, the unselfish 
man enjoys his own life more than does fhe selfish 
one. For, to be quick to think of others, and to seek 
their relief before we have time to think of self, is not 
only a great virtue, but great delight. 

With this self -unconsciousness one finds it easier 
to relieve another than to see him suffer. Instead of 
shutting himself up to appetite or avarice, and deem- 
ing it enjoyment, he wants to get out of himself to do 
for others. He who lives in and for himself is like 



UNSELFISHNESS. 33 

one dwelling in a tomb, who had better, for that pur- 
pose, be dead. All life seeks something external, and 
the greatest lives extend farthest from self, and take 
in most of the world. 

In society, especially, should one not think of self, 
thus appropriating feelings due to others for his own 
advantage. Some can hardly think of self without 
thinking of others, just as some can hardly think of 
others without thinking of self. A generous man is 
more unselfish in his own business than a selfish one 
is in helping others. When doing our duty to others 
we should not regret it as wasted time, but do it as 
eagerly as when working for self. We owe love to our 
disinterested deeds, and should perform our duties to 
others as pleasures. 

To grudge what is not for self is to suffer others' 
pleasures, instead of enjoying them, and so to reverse the 
order of virtue. For, as the unselfish man is the hap- 
piest of men, because he enjoys others' joys, the self- 
ish man is the unhappiest, because he suffers from so 
many things that are not his own. Envying others 
for what they have is one form of suffering their 
enjoyments, instead of enjoying them. The envious 
man suffers from a disease which he has not. He not 
only takes on the ills of life, but makes torments out 
of the pleasures. Since few of the many things in the 
world are ours, it is important to learn to enjoy what 



34 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

is others', and not to suffer from all else but our 
own. 

While our feeling is all in us, so that we alone 
enjoy it, the selfishness consists in thinking of our 
own enjoyment at such times, and not of the person 
calling out the feeling. While all love is a feeling in 
us, it is accompanied by thoughts of another (the one 
loved). And while this feeling is enjoyable in the 
person having it, he who loves for this pleasurable 
sensation in himself, and not for the object thought 
of, is selfish in his love, which is then but lust. He 
loves himself, instead of the other, enjoying the tick- 
ling sensation felt in his body when thinking of an 
admired object, which is about as meritorious as the 
pleasure of being drunk. 

In all forms of benevolence we may do good to 
others unselfishly or selfishly. We may relieve the 
poor and at the same time think lovingly of them, or 
relieve them and think of some return in reputation, 
gratitude, or relief from importunity. The unselfish 
man wants no compensation for his beneficence, find- 
ing satisfaction enough for his deeds in the happiness 
of the ones benefited. 



SPECIAL LOVES. 35 

n. 

SPECIAL LOVES. 

1.— FAMILY LOVE. 

We have thus far spoken of love in general. There 
are also special loves, or love for particular persons, 
according to their relation to us. While we can love 
all men with that general feeling of kindness or sym- 
pathy which should go out to the race, and which we 
may call humanity, we must love those more with 
whom we come more in contact, whose merits, wants, 
and sufferings we specially know. We thus love 
parents, brothers, sisters, and other relatives; also 
neighbors, friends, and countrymen. We have a dif- 
ferent kind of love for different classes and characters 
— for the good, the congenial, the benefactors, the 
suffering, the poor, and the absent. 

This is not necessarily selfish love. Though the 
loved ones are nearer us in some respects, the love may 
be just as generous as the love for the remote. We 
can love only what is brought to our attention, and those 
mentioned are simply better known to us, or more in 
our minds. Members of our family are with us daily, 
and for most of our lives ; our intercourse with them 
is intimate ; we know their feelings and wants, and we 
have seen many of their acts of love. We love them 
more, therefore, because we see in them more to love, 



36 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

and we love them oftener because we oftener think of 
them. We also return their love, or love them out of 
gratitude ; for among the many causes of love is good- 
ness, and no goodness is better known than goodness 
to us. 

Thus we have special reasons and opportunities to 
love parents. Our life is due to them; they have 
cared for us through the years when we could not 
care for ourselves — usually a third of life ; they are 
the first known to us, and the first whose love we 
know; our interests are united, and, being of one 
flesh, we consider ourselves in great part one. Hence 
parents and children specially love each other, which 
love becomes the strength of family and the source of 
further enjoyments. 

The noblest persons think most highly of parents, 
deeming their fathers the noblest of men and their 
mothers the tenderest of women — a judgment not 
necessarily prejudiced, since children know their 
parents better than they know others, and better than 
others know them, so that they see more good in 
them. If others are nobler, these are yet noble 
enough for all their appreciation, so that more nobil- 
ity could hardly call out more. 

One seldom has occasion to consider whether his 
parents have faults, because he is never done appre- 
ciating their virtues, so that the time does not come 



FAMILY LOVE. 37 

for criticism. If one does not think highly of his 
parents, it is not because they are unworthy, but 
because he is, few characters being so defective as 
an ungrateful or undutiful child. One who does 
not love his parents can not well take on any 
virtue, there being a disorder in his faculties 
themselves; whereas one who, with constancy, is true 
to his parents, always inspires hope for the other 
virtues. 

The love of brothers and sisters is much the same 
as the love of parent and child. Growing up around 
the family hearth, it is the offspring of intimate asso- 
ciation and oneness of blood and interest. This fam- 
ily-loving is the training-school for world-loving in 
after years, the family being the world in general for 
people in early life, where all the virtues are started 
in embryo. 

Commencing with love of parents, brothers and 
sisters, one naturally extends his love to relatives 
more remote, from the same cause. They are simi- 
larly connected by blood, and similarly associated 
with him in early life, though in varying degrees of 
intimacy. We love all near relatives, and especially 
those who are much with us — uncles, aunts, cousins, 
grand-children, etc. — love being naturally the result 
of association as of thought. 

Our family, however, soon shades off into Strang- 



38 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

ers; blood becomes thin, and after a few degrees are 
passed we drop them as relatives, to love them as 
neighbors, friends, or simply as part of mankind. We 
are all in some degree related, but the ties are too 
numerous to follow, with either our feeling or thought, 
except for a few degrees. 

2.— FRIENDSHIP. 

Among those not related to us, or only remotely so, 
we select congenial characters for friends; although 
friendship is often the result of accidental association. 
"We have said that two persons can hardly know each 
other intimately without loving; and, since every per- 
son must know some, everybody has some friends. 
Persons thrown much together, besides knowing each 
other well, and mutually sympathizing, have much in 
common. They engage, like brothers and sisters, in 
the same sports, have the same acquaintances, know 
one another's secrets, take one another's advice, and in 
many other ways identify their life. Friendship is 
an artificial relationship, where circumstances make 
brothers of people. We like to be with those who 
appreciate us, and understand us, to whom we can con- 
fide and apply for help, and who are interested in what 
we are interested. And these we often find outside of 
our relatives. Our associates in business, our neigh- 



SENTIMENT. 39 

bors, and those having like tastes usually make up this 
class, so that a special love springs up between them 
and us. 

This is not in derogation of any other love; for, as 
we have said, love does not diminish by being divided, 
but strengthens with its exercise toward many ; so that 
we can love our family more by having others to love. 
Nor is friendship necessarily selfish, since it is a love 
simply for those who are most known, and shuts out 
the love of no others. For he who loves special ones 
most, loves the world most. 

3.— SENTIMENT. 

The most intense of the special loves is the love 
between the sexes, which, beginning in courtship, 
ripens in conjugal love. 

So prominent is this affection that it is preeminently 
known as love ; so that to many the word love suggests 
no other meaning. All-absorbing, it is the greatest 
motive in life, feeding the ambition of youth and mould- 
ing its ideals. Starting most fancies, it is the subject 
of nearly all romances, plays and poems. It does most 
to sweeten life, and, if perverted, does most to embit- 
ter it. 

In this affection one most completely lives in an- 
other's life, losing himself in her welfare and making 
common cause with her. It is the intensest of all feel- 



40 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

ings, and the most lasting, giving the greatest happi- 
ness and the most continuous happiness. Strengthening 
men for the virtues to which it exalts them, it is the 
affection which every one should feel at least once in 
life, if only to know the full range of virtue. In ideal- 
izing its object one sees how great human worth may 
be, and tends toward it. 

Tet its intensity makes it, like dynamite, most dan- 
gerous. Overrunning its borders like a flood, it, like a 
flood, does measureless damage. Vitiated, it makes the 
most deadly corruption; misdirected, it commits the 
most irretrievable blunders. Important as it is to love, 
it is equally important to love right — with purity, con- 
stancy and judgment. The noble lover is the noblest 
of men, the silly lover the silliest, and the depraved 
lover the beastliest. For love is a fire that may warm 
or consume. As a virtue it preserves, as a vice it de- 
stroys, as a folly it caricatures. 

It is one of the first duties of youth, then, to love 
wisely ; not too hastily, lest it be broken off with pain ; 
and not too passionately, lest it rush to ruin. Youth 
need rarely be exhorted to love, as the impulse is 
strong enough by nature; so that the duties of love 
are largely those of restraint, instead of encouragement. 
This is a matter in which to show one's self-control, or 
power of will and capacity for government. Love 
should minister to one's welfare, and not his woes. 



FAITHFULNESS. 41 

With the many vices which it may feed, it may drain 
the virtues, instead of supplying them, and be a source 
of weakness instead of strength. While men should 
direct all their powers they should specially guide this, 
since without sense love has the effect of vice instead 
of virtue. 



III. 

FAITHFULNESS. 

The most common virtue exercised, and required, in 
the special loves is faithfulness, which is being true to 
yourself and to your friends. In all the relations just 
mentioned men confide in one another, and trust to them 
interests — telling them their secrets, and placing them- 
selves in each other's power. 

To keep faithfully such trust is the duty of friend- 
ship; to abuse it is the vice of treachery. Honor, 
pride, manliness, all require, as well as does kindness, 
that we be true to our friends. 

For while we should be true to all, we are under 
special obligations to serve those whose interests and 
feelings are confided to us. The welfare of society 
depends largely on confidence. Men can do little as 
individuals, and so must co-operate much, and the bond 
of this co-operation is confidence, — the giving to each 



42 THE VIKTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

of a part to do with reliance by the rest that he will do 
it. To betray this trust is to attack the basis of 
society. 

The confidences of friendship are among the first 
and most frequent in life, and in them we get our 
schooling for business and political confidences. One 
who confides in us creates for us a duty by surrender- 
ing something of which he would himself have other- 
wise kept the care. One sins against much, therefore, 
who is not faithful to his undertakings. In fact faith- 
fulness, in its widest sense, embraces all the virtues, 
since duty in its entirety is but faithfulness in what- 
ever is imposed upon us, and to all who impose it. 



IV. 
ACCOMMODATION. 

1.— DEFERENCE. 

One of the most natural manifestations of kind- 
ness, is the adjustment of self to others. We must all 
do this in society, each giving up many of his prefer- 
ences that all may get along better together. Ac- 
commodation is the sacrifice made by one for the 
benefit of all. It is no less, however, for his own 
benefit, since like sacrifices are made for him, which 



DEFERENCE. 43 

mutual sacrifices bring many advantages to society as 
a whole. 

One should be careful, therefore, to yield all that he 
may yield with honor, and effect others' convenience 
whenever it may be done safely. We should cultivate 
a love for others' satisfaction. We thus not only get 
along well with them, and make them love us, but 
obtain the pleasures of politeness, hospitality and 
refinement of feeling. In preferring one another we 
often prefer our own interests, which lie partly in 
others, and depend on their like deference to us. 

There is, therefore, often more pleasure in giving up 
than in having our own way, it being a great delight 
to see others enjoy themselves, and recognize that we 
are the source of their happiness. No enjoyment is 
greater to the hospitable man than his guest's. He 
enjoys more giving a dinner than he would eating it, 
and takes more pleasure in showing his garden than 
in looking at it. All worthy pride is founded on the 
satisfaction which our character and possessions give to 
others. One who can not gracefully defer, not only 
makes himself unpopular, but knows nothing of a large 
part of life's enjoyments. 

Successful public and business men invariably have 
this grace ; — they love to please the people, and do not 
feel inconvenienced in deferring to them. 

This deference is commonly in small matters, and, 



44 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

as is usual in small matters, the graces please excess- 
ively, while the vices offend excessively. One who 
neglects such courtesies is disliked as mean. Few get 
more respect than those who yield in trifles. While 
courage consists in asserting one's self when principles, 
or great interests, are involved, gentlemanliness consists 
in yielding at other times. One who can make more by 
giving up than by retaining, is foolish not to give up; 
and to learn how to yield is as important as to learn 
how to hold on. While we should often, indeed, for the 
good of others, defer in great matters also — which is 
beneficence — we should never fail to do so in indiffer- 
ent ones, which is politeness. 

The amenities are a great interest in life, although, 
like the components of the shore, they are singly but 
trifles. Trifles we should triflingly yield, rather than 
heroically maintain, and learn to defer without discom- 
fort. 

There are so many crossings of small interests that 
we should acquire a positive pleasure in yielding them, 
in order to avoid attrition. Our antagonism should be 
reserved for great occasions— for evils and not annoy- 
ances. Those who fight over little things are quar- 
relsome, whereas those who engage in great contests 
are champions. A pugnacious man can not be a great 
general, who, first of all, must be generous. 



POLITENESS. 45 

2.— POLITEISTESS. 

Politeness naturally grows out of deference, and is a 
virtue, which, though important, may be had cheap. It 
costs little to be courteous, since it is simply deference 
in small matters. We yield nothing, and yet are 
always yielding. To bow, smile, or speak kindly, is 
not difficult, and with practice becomes as natural as 
to breathe. And yet these attentions please and make 
friends — always imparting more in pleasure than they 
cost in effort. First impressions are dependent mainly 
on them; and, as many are met only once, or for a 
short time, our politeness gives them the only im- 
pression they ever get of us. As a smile calls out a 
smile, and kindness is reflected back in kindness, 
politeness does much to make happiness among occa- 
sional acquaintances. For, meeting such persons, we 
say they are delightful, and parting we say we have 
enjoyed ourselves. 

To wear a smile is to have a great power in society, 
making often all the difference between a popular and 
unpopular person. The smiling one is much in de- 
mand. The polite man only is considered a gentleman, 
and politeness and good breeding are synonymous 
terms. To be polite is to appear elegant and digni- 
fied, and finally to become so; for one can not long, or 
habitually, appear honorable without developing a 



46 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

sincerity in it, and so really becoming what he seems; 
and, in turn, honor, most constantly feeds politeness, 
and uniformly guarantees it. None but the sincere 
man can be unfailingly polite ; so that politeness, if it 
is not itself a great virtue, implies one. 

The genuinely polite are polite to all; not to the 
great alone, which is sycophancy, or to the beautiful, 
which is gallantry (and may be selfishness), but to the 
poor and the stranger, from whom no advantage can 
come. The true gentleman is a gentleman to his 
servant, and you need meet him but once to know it. 
Politeness is easy enough in polite society, where it is 
often the only object of meeting, and the vulgar may 
be polite there ; but in every day life, with all kinds of 
men, and under every circumstance of irritation, to be 
polite is to be a gentleman with power. 

3.— RESPECT. 

Respect is a kind and manly appreciation and 
treatment of others. In this feeling we let down our 
selfishness, and pay due deference to the merits of 
others. To be thoroughly respectful, we must put 
ourselves in others' places, and see them as they see 
themselves. It is easy to have respect for one's self, 
and to enter into such self-respect of another is our 
generous privilege. To respect another as ourselves, 
as well as to love another as ourselves, is our 



RESPECT. 47 

duty. Nearly all hate and antagonism come from not 
understanding others from their own standpoint. If 
we knew how they see things, they would not seem so 
foolish or wrong to us. 

We should give all men credit for sense and good 
intention, and should act on that credit until we learn 
differently. Everyone is entitled from us to what we 
think we are entitled to from him. Our conduct toward 
another should be based on the supposition that he is 
as good as we are. If it is not true, he likely thinks 
it is true, and we are under no obligation to remind 
him of his mistake. And whatever may be our own 
importance, it is not for us to show it or enforce it on 
society. Justice, of which respect is the mental 
expression, is founded on the equality of men, and 
that equality should be borne in mind when we deal 
with our neighbor. 

The poorer or weaker one is, the more is our 
respect worth to him, and to be respectful to the 
lowly and suffering comes nearest a virtue. To 
respect the great is easy enough, but to give equal 
respect to the unfortunate, who can make no return, 
has something of manly generosity. 

In this spirit we should treat others' opinions with 
respect. When we disagree with men, we should 
remember that they have minds like ourselves, and 
may be equally convinced of their views. Respect for 



48 THE VIETUES AND THEIE SEASONS. 

another's opinions is no unfaithfulness to our own. 
Except when arguing with him, we need not treat his 
views as wrong. Much strife comes from an injudi- 
cious or premature clashing of opinions. Opinions 
should not be made to clash, except in the battle of 
argument. They are not a subject on which to attack 
character. And in arguing against others' views, the 
discussion should be impersonal and with good humor. 
Opinions are not usually held except upon some good 
reason, or what seems such; and when they are 
founded on prejudice or ignorance they are least of all 
a subject for attack, since their owners are not in a 
condition to hear arguments as good as ours. 

Just as in polite society (as at a banquet) we do 
not discuss our antagonistic interests as guests, so in 
ordinary intercourse we should not bring our thoughts 
into battle. There is a place for the clashing of 
minds as for the clashing of interests, and at other 
times we should not let men know that we deem their 
views worse than ours. Antagonize a man only when 
you have an opportunity to show him he is wrong, 
and do not scatter your strife all through life. Every 
man is apt to think he is more nearly right than any- 
body else, and you will get along better by not 
reminding him of his mistake. 

Though we should never yield the right to think 
or argue, we should dispute only at the right time. 



RESPECT. 49 

By respecting others you will get their respect, and 
you will have many friends among those who do not 
know how little you think of them. If you treat oth- 
ers as if you appreciated them as much as they do 
themselves, they will conceive a high opinion of your 
judgment, and return a like respect to you as due to 
great intelligence. And all this can be done without 
hypocrisy, since the mere negative tributes of respect 
are commonly received as the homage of admiration. 
To get along well with men, we must treat them at 
least as equals, for then we will never know how 
badly they may think of us. 

We should remember, too, that we are not perhaps 
ourselves as important as we think, and that others 
are quite as apt to be as great as they think they are, 
as we are to be as great as we think we are. For 
excessive self-esteem may be in us as well as in oth- 
ers. It is no little acquisition to learn the greatness 
that is outside of us, and to appreciate in others what 
we have not in ourselves. For on this our respect 
should be founded — the value of others — and it should 
be an expression of that universal love which appreci- 
ates and enters into the feelings of all mankind. 



50 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

V. 

BENEFICENCE. 

1.— GENEROSITY. 

It is not enough, however, to show our regard for 
men in minor matters; but love should go beyond 
respect and trivial accommodation to practical aid, 
and, if need be, to sacrifice for their material benefit. 
Born for mutual helpfulness, we should give of our 
substance when that is needed. Beneficence, or good- 
doing, has always been deemed a comprehensive virtue. 
And though all our conduct should be for somebody's 
good — our own or others' — there are special calls 
upon us to relieve misfortune. 

When others can not help themselves, it is our 
duty to help them. The help needed should be forth- 
coming as the duty of the strong to the weakness of 
the race. Half of mankind must thus help the other 
half along, if they are to be got along, and everyone 
should consider whether he is doing his share in 
keeping up the unfortunates in the journey of life. 
Weakness calls loud to strength for help, and he who 
has no ear for this call had better have none for 
music or gayety. To be sensitive to the cry of dis- 
tress is a necessary qualification for refinement as 
well as for virtue. 

Men have what they have only as part owners. 



GENEROSITY. 51 

Everybody in need has a claim on it until satisfied; 
and from the possessions of the race the wants should 
be supplied. All property is the result of men's com- 
bined work; and everybody is entitled to it to the 
extent of a living. No man earns all of what he pos- 
sesses. Thousands have contributed to his store, and 
some claims remain over on it. Besides the claims of 
the whole, in the form of taxes and assessments, there 
are many undefined and indefinable claims which can 
be enforced only through conscience. All property is 
held subject to many rights of others — to be taken 
for public uses, to support the poor, to maintain asylums, 
and other benevolences. But, in addition to this, many 
co-laborers, who have never received their reward in 
society, have some just claims which we should privately 
recognize — some who have done well, and yet remain 
poor, or who have earned their share and lost it in the 
general scramble for labor's products ; and these claims 
upon our property should be paid as dues, and not as 
charity. 

We all have the duty of generosity, — to help along 
in many ways those who are not so low as to be the re- 
cipients of alms. A father thus helps his sons through 
life ; brothers help one another as long as any of them 
have means ; friends help one another by loans, and by 
procuring them work. This spirit of helpfulness we 
should always feel, and not be satisfied with our own 



52 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

competency merely. We need such help ourselves at 
times, and men are all beneficiaries on one another. 
The richest need the help of others as patronage, which 
is often bestowed as a favor, as much as is the aid of 
the great. 

One should feel specially bound to help those who 
are out of employment — to lend them something for 
their necessities, and to do this without security, or 
expectation of its return. The duties of lending are 
extensive ; and he who never lends is about as mean as 
he who is always borrowing. We should try to always 
have something on hand for loans, and never be so 
hard up as to have nothing with which to help a friend. 
What men may thus do for one another — in helping 
them to opportunities — is more important than what 
they give in charity. If people were helped more they 
would not have to be fed so much. By keeping our 
fellows up in respectable work we can keep the number 
of beggars down. The greatest charity is that which 
keeps men above the need of charity. Generosity 
should prevent the necessity for alms. 

Unless one is generous he does not repay the aid 
which has been given him; for no one has reached his 
present position unaided. Each one stands on the 
shoulders of many, and should be willing to bear others 
up in turn. The wealthy or fortunate should show 
their gratitude by making others fortunate. Axd-giv- 



CHAEITY. 53 

ing should be a recognized virtue — the assistance by the 
fortunate of others that they also may be fortunate. 
It is not enough to help men in their misery; we 
should help them out of their misery. By giving 
them such alms as will leave them mendicants we do a 
less service than by giving them chances that will put 
them to the side of helpers instead of helped. The 
aim of society should be to give all an equal chance, 
so that there shall not be such differences in men, and 
so but little need of alms-giving. We want to reduce 
the unfortunate classes by making men more fortunate 
as a whole ; and for this a generous system of helps 
is required. As we can never help ourselves suffi- 
ciently, we should never help ourselves only. 

2.— CHARITY. 

There are, however, some who will always remain 
poor, unable to keep up in the march of life. These 
must be aided in their misery ; and we should feel it a 
privilege to relieve their wants. He who feeds the 
poor eats with many mouths ; and we should be glad 
that others have appetites when we are sated, so that 
our meals may be enjoyed beyond our capacity to en- 
joy them. As long as there are men who can not be 
anything but beggars, there should be a compassion in 
men that can not be satisfied except by alms-giving. 

Nor should we inquire too closely whether the suf- 



54 THE VIRTUE3 AND THEIR REASONS. 

ferers are deserving. Anybody in misery is deserving 
of aid, and we should be charitable in our opinions as 
well as in our gifts. Few can find begging so agree- 
able as to take to it from choice. It is generally mens 
last resort, and some great sorrow lies behind every 
appeal for alms. 

Hence if you can not give, be kind; and never be 
rude to the poor until you know that they have no rea- 
son to beg. While we should preferably help the 
needy to work, we have no right, when we are not do- 
ing so, to aggrieve them in their present mode of get- 
ting a living. Begging should be discouraged chiefly 
by aid to something better, and not by making the way 
of the beggar harder. The well-to-do will never know 
the suffering of the assisted classes; and while some 
can not get along because of lack of energy, most fail 
because of lack of ability. 

We should be tenderly careful of the feelings, as 
well as the wants of the poor, since many are in need 
after heroic efforts to keep up in life. A word may 
now crush them, as all their strength has been 
exhausted before they have given up to be recipients 
of charity. 

Those who are called upon for charity should be 
thankful, first, that they are not themselves subjects 
of charity, and again that they can do something to 
relieve misery. Whoever has more than he needs has 



CHARITY. 55 

enough for charity, and out of his superabundance 
somebody should be supplied. As one knows not how 
all of his property has been amassed, he may, in giving 
alms, be only paying his dues ; since many a beggar 
has helped build up the wealth of the millionaire. 
Where by the intricacies of business, thousands have 
contributed to our store, thousands have claims on it 
if in need. For the laborer never releases all his rights 
to the possessions of others, but retains a lien for his 
livelihood, which the wealthy should always rec- 
ognize and honor. We should look upon charity as a 
duty rather than a merit, and often as a business obli- 
gation rather than a gratuity. We are all made partly 
out of the work which has reduced others to want. By 
getting so much for ourselves we have not left enough 
to go round ; and when the unfortunate comes back for a 
share of this we should not begrudge him his pittance. 
Especially if we are not sure that our gains have been 
honest should we be careful about refusing to others in 
need. Every rich man who has wronged others should 
see in the poor his creditors. 

If we owned absolutely, and by just title, our pos- 
sessions, our charity would be pure generosity, where- 
as it is now partly a reparation ; since in the present con- 
dition of society many do not deserve what they have. 
Instead of inquiring whether the needy are deserving 
poor, we should ask whether we are deserving rich. 



56 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

VI. 

FOKGIVENESS. 

The impulse of kindness is to forgive, and not hold 
unkind feelings against those who have wronged us. 
To be resentful is more painful to the unforgiving than 
to the unforgiven; and the happy can not afford it. 
The generous man does not care long for an injury- 
done him. The injury should be repaired, and the 
injurer forgiven. The only precaution we can take 
is against his having an opportunity to injure us again; 
but it never helps an injury to be revengeful toward 
the person committing it ; whereas forgiveness is often 
the best guarantee against its repetition. One can not 
easily wrong a forgiving disposition, which tends to 
create justice in the unjust. 

To forgive an injury is often the quickest way to 
get rid of it, for when it is out of the mind it is usually 
out of power. To revolve an injury in our thoughts 
is to multiply it, since it increases by as much as it is 
felt. We have no right to remember a wrong longer 
than to right it, or a wrong-doer longer than to pro- 
vide against further wrong. Beyond the remembrance 
that is necessary to profit by experience we should 
keep no evil in mind, but learn to think only of the 
good and be happy. To avenge a wrong is no remedy 



1 



FORGIVENESS. 57 

for it; and dwelling upon it only puts us more in the 
power of the wrong-doer. 

Hence forgiveness has always been deemed a virtue, 
and the forgiving man one of superiority. To rise 
above our wrongs is a great achievement in charac- 
ter, and is often the best way to triumph over our 
enemies ; for we thereby make ourselves impregnable 
against them. He who can be injured by every insult 
is a frail man, exposed to the mercy of his inferiors ; 
whereas one who can keep a noble mind amid bad 
men's doings is immeasurably removed from their 
power. Mercy has always been esteemed in the great, 
— to have power to avenge and not to use it. When 
a loss is suffered we should remedy it, or dismiss it 
from the mind, and not prolong it by memory. 

Those who injure us rarely intend to, but do so 
without much thought, most injuries being accidental. 
When men understand us they rarely antagonize us, 
nearly every quarrel being the result of misunder- 
standing. Did the injuring one know our situation, 
he would likely sympathize with us; and did we 
understand his purpose, we would see in it a rational 
aim instead of an unkind wish. It is important to be 
well informed before we avenge ; and vengeance, like 
war, should never follow except on the heels of ear- 
nest efforts for an understanding. If we let the 
wrong-doer alone he will soon punish himself, whereas 



58 THE VIETUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

if we hasten to punish him we will take his punish- 
ment on our own heads. It is a frequent saying of 
Plato's that it is better to suffer a wrong than to com- 
mit it, the punishment of wrong-doing being surer 
than the profit of it. The injured one is soon over 
the injury, whereas the injurer gets a wound by the 
reaction which sticks permanently to his character. 
One can not do wrong long without becoming a 
wronged man, as wrongs nearly always revert upon 
the wrong-doer. The bad man is always looking in a 
glass which reflects what he does, so that injury is 
usually self-avenging. He who takes up arms against 
another commonly wounds himself, and the avenger 
should remember the words of Napoleon, " Never 
interfere with your enemy when he is making a mis- 
take." 



VII. 

REGARD FOR FEELINGS. 

One of the most important manifestations of kind- 
ness is a regard for the feelings of others, or cau- 
tion against giving them internal wounds. The 
feelings are the most sensitive part of man, trans- 
cending in delicacy the nerves, so that they need 
special protection. We can often say what will 



REGARD FOR FEELINGS. 59 

give deeper pain than anything we can do. Un- 
kindness spoken goes more directly to the heart 
than unkindness acted (as meaning is more subtile 
and penetrating than violence). 

We should, therefore, be as cautious of our 
words as of our blows. One who will not strike 
a woman may hurt her more with a slap from the 
tongue, cruelty being now generally in the form 
of a coarse treatment of people's fine feelings. 
The sins of the tongue have, accordingly, been 
always signaled as most dangerous. Much of our 
bad conduct is in speech, as well as of our good. 
The tongue is the most used implement in war as 
in industry. It is habitually going, and, if normally 
used, always carries a meaning ; and its words 
may be poison or balm. To strike with the tongue 
may, like the viper's, be the deadliest blow we can 
give. As a weapon it should be used sparingly, and 
only as a tool be left loose. 

Nothing is gained by harshness that can not 
be gained by gentleness, a little thought always 
finding kind expressions that are powerful ; so that 
coarseness, being without reason, is a folly as well 
as a vice. It defeats its purpose, moreover, in 
bringing back more bad words, instead of eliciting 
good deeds. Words, like animals, breed according to 
their kind. An unkind word begets a litter of brawl- 



60 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

ing, whereas pleasant words call out a profusion oi 
sweetness. 

Genuine kindness, however, looks beyond words to 
the feelings; and we should see in dealing with others 
that their feelings are made pleasant. We can offend 
by apparently soft speech which contains concealed 
stings ; so that we should consider how our words will 
affect the heart and not the ear. When bitterness 
is conveyed by politeness, it is the most exasperating. 
True politeness looks beyond the appearance to the 
feeling produced by our conduct. 

As some men, and especially some women, are 
highly sensitive, we should, when we must deny or 
antagonize them, do so tenderly. A request refused 
is often welcome if the refusal be gentle. If we can 
not grant a favor we can give kind words ; and if we 
do not show our sympathy we should, at least, not 
display our harshness, but conceal a defect when we 
can not exhibit a virtue. 

Employers in particular should be kind to their 
employes, avoiding overbearing language and conduct ; 
since the real gentleman is a gentleman to his subor- 
dinates. One who shows his superiority with inso- 
lence thereby proves himself unfit to be a superior. 
No man has a right to more power than he can use with 
kindness. He who does not respect the feelings 
of those under him is too little for his position. Inso- 



INSOLENCE. 61 

lence always marks incompetence in office. Men love 
those with whom their feelings are safe — who do not 
bring tears or mortification, but may be approached 
with confidence. 



VIII. 
OPPOSITE FEELINGS. 

1 .—INSOLENCE. 

I shall consider next the vices resulting from want 
of kindness, or antagonism to it. 

I have just spoken of insolence as the opposite of 
a regard for the feelings of others. It has, however, 
still further demerits. If not one of the greatest 
vices, it is one of the most offensive. It shows lack 
of sympathy or appreciation, and is founded on self- 
conceit — another disagreeable vice. To feel your 
importance is to acknowledge a weakness to yourself, 
while to show it is to confess such weakness to others. 
Insolence never evokes the esteem it would draw from 
others ; but calls upon itself the contempt it would 
impart. It never makes a friend, or has any desired 
effect. If you are graceless enough to think you are 
superior to others, do not shamelessly show it ; for 
you will generally prove thereby that you are not. 



62 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

People like modest men, and consideration for 
others goes farther than imperiousness over them. 
Insolence has no authority, but generally begets 
revolt. In employers it causes strikes, in the army 
it excites insubordination, and in every position it 
takes away confidence in one's leadership. To control 
men we must attract and not repel ; whereas insolence 
is a repellant force, the forerunner of division. For 
what can not hold men's good opinion has no power to 
keep them together ; and they who would have influ- 
ence must not begin by making themselves disagree- 
able. To show that you feel above those about you 
is a signal for everybody else to think differently ; for 
none think well of those who think ill of them, opinion 
being mutual as well as love. The insolent man gets 
unpopularity cheap, and self is insolence's only 
admirer. 

2.— CONCEIT. 

We have said that insolence is founded on conceit, 
which is a high opinion of self, as insolence is a low 
opinion of others. Men do not like to see one think 
too highly of himself, any more than they like to see 
him think too lowly of them. Self-conceit is the posi- 
tive form of insolence, and implies contempt for others 
by way of comparison with self. To dwell much on our 
own importance is as offensive to others as it is pleas- 



CONCEIT. 63 

ing to us. Like insolence, it is essential selfishness, 
being usually at tlie expense of kindly thought about 
our fellows. 

The noblest characters are so interested in other 
men and things, and particularly in great matters, that 
they have not time to dwell much on self; and their 
ideals are too high to be much pleased with themselves 
when they do. A conceited man must have a low 
standard to think that he fills it; and from others he 
gets the credit of littleness. Men like the generous 
man, who hardly knows, or cares, what kind of man 
he is. The greatest virtues are not developed by 
entertaining yourself with yourself, but by doing good 
without much thought of self. 

Conceit is the opposite of that self-forgetfulness 
which is so admired in the lover. He who loves self 
has a poor lover, and poor loved one. He has also a 
poor love. It is a kind of illicit love ; for love is nat- 
urally for others, and when turned to self is a sort of 
unnatural affection. To be in love with self is a spe- 
cies of self-abuse; and about the only advantage such 
lover has is, that he has no rivals, and neither feels 
nor excites jealousy. 

Self-conceit is pride in virtues which one has not, 
and so is a vanity founded on an error. One loves 
himself for what he is not, and having a monopoly of 
that love is without sympathy ; for self-conceit never 



64 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

yet attracted an admirer. Whatever may be one's 
opinion of self, he should not show it. The world is 
not interested to know; and, besides, it thinks it knows 
better than he does. One should never have selfish- 
ness enough to dwell complacently on his own merits, 
which is poor food for satisfaction, and is about as 
profitable as to feed on one's appetite. 

3.— DISPUTATIOUSNESS. 

One of the most disagreeable of the unkind habits 
is the tendency to cavil. In times when men disagree 
so much, it is important to learn not to obtrude our 
differences. We should disagree in silence, as well as 
in love, and not be punctilious about little errors. In 
conversation especially, where accuracy is not required, 
it is hypercritical to persist in setting men right. We 
should look at the substance of what is said, and agree 
with the spirit of men's remarks, rather than contest 
their utterance. . Most that is said is intended for 
our entertainment ; and to criticise it is like examining 
too closely a gift. 

We should school ourselves to look through much 
inaccuracy of expression to the meaning of the speaker, 
and to agree with him in mind when we can not in 
language. Many disputes arise from mistaking the 
sense by looking too carefully at the words of the 
speaker. Fighting over words — " logomachy " — has 



DISPUTATIOUSNESS. 65 

always been deemed ungracious. Help the short-com- 
ings of a friend's rhetoric by your own superior logic, 
and learn to see meaning when it is not accurately 
expressed, and to recognize agreements in language 
that expresses differences. Minds should commune, 
and not tongues ; and we should be able to look through 
the language to the thought. Since we know most that 
others tell us, we should supply what is lacking in 
their statements out of our own knowledge. Quarrels 
between husbands and wives, between brothers and 
sisters, and between near friends, who are supposed to 
know each others' thoughts, should all be avoided by 
this liberal method of interpretation. 

If others persist in being mistaken, it is not our 
province to correct them ; and, as men who make mis 
takes like to adhere to them, a correction avails little 
to one who already knows he is wrong. Men do not 
reason candidly when they want an error to prevail; 
and we should not have the folly to dispute with such. 
Successful conversationalists are able to see truth 
through false statements, and to agree with facts inac- 
curately expressed, and so to be complacent amid great 
differences of opinion. The good humor of the aver- 
age talker is worth more than the amount of truth he 
has, and an error should be no cause for strife. We 
should be willing to see others mistaken, and be a 

little more careful about ourselves. 
5 



86 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

If our own utterances are disputed we should, out 
of charity for the disputant, express ourselves again; 
and if we are still misunderstood, we should practice 
the grace of being misunderstood with patience. If 
we tell the truth as accurately as we can, we are not 
responsible for the deception if others do not see it; 
and our pride should not take offense at their stu- 
pidity. Say plainly what you mean, and leave your 
words to their fate. It is not your duty to follow after 
your statements to compel respect for them. The wise 
man must learn to be complacently disagreed with; 
and his equanimity should not be disturbed by misap- 
prehension, whether it be because of another's or of 
his own incapacity to be right. 

4.— FAULT-FINDING. 

Of a like character with disputatiousness is the 
vice of fault-finding, except that it is more general. 
As the first is a fault-finding touching what men say, 
the latter extends also to what they do. Being out 
with the world, some men can not be pleased, which is 
a fault of their nature, rather than a merit of their 
understanding. For fault-finding comes less from see- 
ing what is faulty than from failing to see the good 
in it. It results from lack of sympathy, and is rather 
an expression of hate than of indignation. 

In a world where good and evil are so plentifully 



FAULT-FINDING. 67 

mixed, it is unfortunate to have an eye only for the 
evil, which, like the buzzard's looking for carrion, 
misses more sights than it sees. The good may be 
contemplated as easily as the bad, and usually is, 
except by morbid dispositions, just as men who may 
eat either fruit or leaves, do not generally eat leaves. 

We should dwell on faults enough to correct them, 
especially in ourselves; but beyond this we should 
ignore them, like other disagreeable things, especially 
in others. To dwell on faults is to develop a tendency 
to be displeased. Evils are not generally instructive 
facts, any more than they are enjoyable ones, and so 
may, without loss, be forgotten, or left unlearned. The 
faults of friends especially may be overlooked, without 
loss to us or them. In a world with so many objects 
of contemplation, the most desirable only should be 
selected. 

For while one may, with equal facility, appreciate 
the good or bewail the evil of life, and while it is a 
matter of choice with which he will occupy his mind, 
there is this difference, that the thought of the good 
makes him happy, and of the evil miserable ; and since 
consideration of the evil is no more advantageous to 
others, we are not justified, except in rare cases of 
great wrong or misfortune, in especially considering 
it. 

Pessimism, or inclination to dwell on evil, is a mat- 



68 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

ter mainly of disposition, and results not from a juster 
estimate of evil, but from turning the eyes specially 
toward it. The optimist might see the same if he 
looked for it; but the wisdom of knowledge lies in the 
choice of subjects, as well as in their consideration. 
While we should see truth when we can, we should 
also look for it, as for gold, in paying quantities. The 
knowledge that is not worth knowing is a great item 
in life, as well as the deeds that are not worth doing. 
For there are two objects in learning, — one to get 
knowledge, and the other to be made happy by it — 
and knowledge that is worthless is like anything else 
worthless, to be rejected. We need not know all that 
is in the sewers and family closets, or regale others 
with it. Evils untold do not grow by their silence, 
though evils repeated multiply by their circulation. 

The fault-finder is unkind, both in dwelling on the 
faults of others and in aggravating them by exposure, 
thereby often creating the faults which he tells. His 
information being rarely new, either to the hearer or 
person spoken of, is not so much a discovery of the 
faults of others as a disclosure of his own. And, for 
the same reason, it does not produce as much dislike 
for the one found fault with as for the fault-finder. 

For, one who states disagreeable things, is himself 
disagreeable. Not only do men like those bearing 
good news, and, to that extent, dislike the carriers of 



FAULT-FINDING. 69 

evil news, but he whose mind is full of amenities 
acquires a pleasing look from the habit of his thought, 
while he who habitually thinks of the unpleasant, gets 
an unpleasant look, — the expression and manner being 
nourished by what they feed on. Displeasure passes 
by habit into displeasingness, so that one who is much 
displeased soon displeases. 

We should, accordingly, instead of showing need- 
less displeasure when things are not to our liking, pre- 
serve a kindly satisfaction, learning to see faults 
without being much troubled by them, and especially 
without troubling others with them. For faults may 
be known without being felt; and they should pass 
lightly through the mind when we can accomplish 
nothing by entertaining them. 

Learn, therefore, to bear with little defects, rather 
than feel enough annoyed to speak of them, always 
considering whether their mention will cause less pain 
to others ihan their cure will bring advantage to self. 
And learn, instead of finding fault, to praise freely, 
and to suggest changes for improvement rather than 
defects for complaint. People will do more for you if 
encouraged to do better than if scolded for not doing 
well, the best cure for an evil being to point out a 
better way, instead of bewailing what is. To be 
pleased when things are not to your liking, is to 
gracefully triumph over inconvenience, and is often 



70 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

the best way to make them satisfactory. When peo- 
ple see that you do not complain, they try to please 
you, whereas for the scold they would rather make 
more trouble than relieve what exists. Lead, instead 
of drive, as people do not willingly antagonize kindle 
forbearance. 



IX. 

CHEEBFULNESS. 

The sum of the graces is cheerfulness, which con- 
duces as much to the happiness of others as of self. 
It is being in harmony with things, and at peace with 
human nature. It comes not only from looking at the 
good, which is mixed with all evil (as well as found 
pure in great quantities), but from appreciating it 
when we have it. 

Cheerfulness is largely in our own power ; for, 
though some are by nature more inclined to cheerful- 
ness than others, this disposition may be developed by 
habit, until cheerfulness becomes natural to any per- 
son. One oan determine to let nothing unduly dis- 
turb him ; and when both a pleasant and a painful 
aspect of a subject are possible, he can persist in look- 
ing at the pleasant, which should always be done, 



CHEERFULNESS. 71 

as we have seen, when there is no remedy for the 
other. 

For when evil can not be remedied, the next best 
thing is to make it ineffective — that is, to keep it out 
of our feeling, so that, like untasted gall, it shall not 
be bitter. For there is much cause of sorrow that 
need not have its effect. The bad eggs need not all 
be smelt. If so much happiness is going to waste, 
some unhappiness should also be wasted. Like a phy- 
sician who can go through an epidemic, and not catch 
the disease, we should learn to go through trouble and 
not take it. There is such a thing as quarantining 
ourselves against unhappiness. 

Thinking of a remedy, when things are not to our 
liking, is the best prescription for cheerfulness. The 
hope which this gives prevents most of the pain, and 
our absorption in the task cures the remainder. Re- 
lieving an evil is a form of happiness, as well as of util- 
ity ; and after success we feel better than if the evil 
had not been. If the evil is incurable, we should dis- 
miss it from thought, as we do the dead from our eyes, 
and think of something good. There are subjects of 
thought within our reach that will always make us 
happy, and also of conduct; so that being happy is a 
duty as well as a privilege. What we shall feel, as 
well as what we shall do, is subject to the will ; and 
one thing that all should provide for themselves is a 



72 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

cheerful disposition, or permanent possibility of hap- 
piness. He whose happiness can not be upset is the 
most secure of men; for he holds fate in his own 
hands. To have by nature that which all are striving 
for, is a short way to the goal of life. As we are all 
seeking happiness, we should know that it is within 
us, and only needs to be brought out into appre- 
ciation. 

There are many cheerful people who can take 
pleasure out of anything, or even out of nothing ; 
whose eyes and ears are always open for something to 
smile at, and to whom laughter is as natural as breath- 
ing. Their faces are bright, their voices are sweet, 
their manner is pleasing. If sorrow touch them, it 
remains but a short time, when their joy returns. 
They find pleasure everywhere lying loose, and pick it 
up as quickly as a miner does gold. Alert to discover 
humor, they find something to amuse in nearly every- 
thing. Their senses are all alive to the pleasing, and 
pleasures flow in through them as their natural chan- 
nel. Nearly all sights to them are beautiful, nearly 
all sounds are musical, and what is ugly is apt to be 
funny, and so to please as wit when it can not as art. 
The painful is viewed as a kind of joke (on Nature or 
on somebody), and a keen sense of the ridiculous filters 
some enjoyment from it. Such a disposition is worth 
a fortune ; for it is that which a fortune is meant to 



CHEEBFULNESS. 73 

bring — happiness — so that if we already have the 
happiness by nature, the means are less important. 

A cheerful disposition is, indeed, largely the result 
of health and pleasant circumstances ; but if obtained 
without these, it dispenses with their need; for he who 
is happy thereby defeats the ill-fortune of nature; so 
that it is more important to be happy than to be 
wealthy, healthy, handsome, or anything else whose 
only purpose is to make men happy. Cheerfulness is a 
short road to happiness. It is a race which we win 
by being at the goal when we start. 

We have said that cheerfulness is a duty. It is a 
duty not only to self, but to others. For others enjoy 
the cheerful man as much as he enjoys himself. 
Smiles, delight, humor, all are contagious ; and a 
cheerful man, like leaven, raises the spirits of the 
whole company. Happiness is catching, as well as 
goodness, and one can be happy for many. Man can 
not easily smile alone. Any one who starts a wave of 
joy makes it vibrate to the farthest limits of his 
company ; and as no duty is greater than to make men 
happy, cheerfulness is a summary way of doing many 
duties at once. A smile is a message of good will to 
others. It touches the electric key which sets a whole 
circle to being pleased. Cheerfulness makes cheerful, 
and multiplies our happiness in others. It is the 
most pleasant way of making others happy, as well as 



74 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

the most effective. Begot of sympathy it begets 
more sympathy than anything else. It is an exhorta- 
tion to happiness by showing an example. Much of 
our need of company is that we may exchange pleas- 
ures. Two persons can borrow of each other more 
cheerfulness than either of them has. In fact two 
men can hardly look each other in the face without 
laughing. 

The cheerful man has a great power in society. 
As an orator he gets attention by his quick sympathy ; 
his good fellowship makes him desired as a com- 
panion ; men like to trade with him, and women 
are more apt to love him. We naturally like those 
who make us feel good, and demand their company as 
a part of our pleasure. A happy-making man is a 
public benefit; and to have one around is a cheap way 
of getting enjoyment. There is a great demand for 
some one to turn our surroundings into pleasures. 

Cheerfulness, then, as a duty to others, is a large 
part of Ethics. To make them happy by our own 
happiness is better than to make them so by what 
costs us pain. Enjoying for the sake of others is 
better than working for the sake of others. We 
too commonly regard duties to others as sacrifices, 
instead of pleasures. They may be profitable to us as 
well as to them, and naturally are so in a well 
ordered society. 



SPEAKING KINDLY OF OTHEKS. 75 

The duty of cheerfulness ought thus to be a grate- 
ful one, and it is strange that it is ever neglected. 
Nothing is more pleasant than setting an example in 
happiness; and if one is such an abortion of nature 
as to find it too irksome to be happy, he should not 
have been born. Like all other virtues cheerfulness 
is a type of the general principle of morality, that 
what is good for others is best for ourselves. 



SPEAKING KINDLY OF OTHEES. 

An important form of kindness is kindly speaking ; 
and, important as it is to speak kindly to others, it 
is nearly as important to speak kindly of others. Men 
are often more sensitive about what is said of 
them than about what is said to them, since unkind- 
ness spoken in their presence may be resented or cor- 
rected, whereas if spoken in their absence it remains 
unrepaired. Hence, the back-biter is meaner than the 
brow-beater. He is also deemed cowardly, since the 
inference is that not having the courage to speak evil 
to one's face he takes his absence for it. As we 
should mention defects only to remedy them, there 



76 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

is no excuse for disclosing them when the person to be 
benefited is not present to take advantage of it. 

Criticism, if fair, is, indeed, allowable, but only 
for a good purpose, and then only in kindness. To 
habitually criticise, or to criticise for the love of 
the fault, and not of the person, is a low vice ; since 
faults, as we have seen, are not very profitable inform- 
ation, being private and of no wide application. "We 
should not try to make others good off our neighbors' 
vices, but, when inclined to speak unkindly, should 
consider how the one spoken of would like it, who 
is most concerned, and determine whether our criticism 
will benefit others more than it will harm him. Men 
love their reputation next to their lives, and the slan- 
derer is near akin to the murderer. 

That a disagreeable thing is true is no justification 
of its utterance, any more than that a poison is 
genuine justifies a murder committed with it. There 
is an old law maxim that the greater the truth the 
greater the libel; and morals should be more sensi- 
tive than jurisprudence in discriminating against 
unkindness. There are truths which need not be 
known. Men's private affairs should be as much their 
own as their money; and to give away their secrets is 
as bad as to give away their clothes. Men have prop- 
erty in truth, when it concerns them only. We all 
want others to think well of us, for which we spend 



SPEAKING KINDLY OF OTHEKS. 77 

our money and make our displays — dress, build, 
beautify, entertain, and do whatever calls for admira- 
tion. When men speak ill of us they attack all this, 
especially if they speak it to our acquaintances, as 
they commonly do. Many would rather be attacked 
by a highwayman than by a slanderer ; for the robber 
would destroy less, and would run greater risk in his 
attack. Before saying anything about others, con- 
sider whether you would say it to their faces, or 
whether they would care to have it said. 

Men can be particularly unkind in saying mortify- 
ing things. It is not necessary, in order to wound 
one's feelings, to say what is bad. It is enough to 
reveal what is private. Each family has its household 
matters that should be deemed sacredly its own. The 
tattler who scatters these in the street is as unkind as 
such a mean person can be ; and his low gossip 
should be avoided as beneath manliness. Eespect 
one's privacy, and be more careful not to talk than to 
tell the truth about secrets. We do not owe the 
world anybody else's secrets. 

No grace is more admired than that which speaks 
well of others. Besides averting endless difficulties 
it makes many friends. We readily conclude that he 
who speaks kindly of others will speak kindly of us, 
and so easily give our secrets to those who never 
reveal secrets to us; whereas one whom we know to be 



?8 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

false to another we can never trust ourselves, as we are 
aware of the important fact that he can be false. We 
can not but reflect, when one speaks ill of an absent 
one, that we will be the absent ones when he next 
talk&j. Trueness is no respecter of persons, but an 
absolute grace, and will be true to all. We need not 
expect one to be truer behind our back than he is to 
another to our face. One always leaves a better 
impression by speaking well of others, than by speak- 
ing ill, even if the ill be interesting gossip. We can 
usually see the unkindness of one who injures another 
as readily as if he injured us ; and we give him no 
more credit for goodness than his worst act entitles 
him to. Unkindness spoken of another is a confes- 
sion by the speaker, and he will be judged by the 
hearer as if it were spoken about him instead of to 
him. 



THINKING KINDLY OF OTHERS. 79 

XI. 
THINKING KINDLY OF OTHERS. 

1.— IN GENERAL. 

To think kindly of others is scarcely less grateful 
to them than to speak kindly, or act kindly. Men do 
much for our good opinion, and to withhold it is to 
defeat their work. More persons care to have us think 
well of them than to have us do well to them; for, 
while beneficence is limited to a few, benevolence may 
be to all. The least we owe any man is a good opin- 
ion, and we fail in a great duty if we depreciate him 
without cause. 

The obligation of good thoughts is imposed by 
mankind as a whole, and arises from the very condi- 
tions of society, as will appear in the next section. If 
we think badly of men, it is more the result of a bad 
heart than of a good judgment. It shows faulty lack 
of knowledge ; since men, if known, seem not as bad as 
when unknown ; and we owe to everybody knowledge 
enough not to think ill of him. We should make it a 
habit of judgment to think well of everybody until we 
learn the contrary, and, when one fault is proven 
against him, to allow him the remaining virtues until 
they likewise are disproven. We think well of our 



80 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

friends; and everybody should be deemed friendly till 
known otherwise. 

2.— CONFIDENCE. 

We should, therefore, have confidence in mankind. 
Much confidence is required for the purposes of 
society ; and to be mistrustful disqualifies for life. 
One will lose more opportunities by want of confidence 
than he will save by uniform security. Caution is 
indeed necessary when risks are taken; but to have so 
much caution as to take no risks, is to lose all, instead 
of imperil a part. 

Where not interested we should especially be slow 
to doubt men. Give every one the credit of good 
intentions, and assume that he will do his best. By 
extending to him your confidence, you will get his 
confidence, and know him well enough for your pur- 
poses. We should understand men before impeaching 
them, and not be so much on guard against human 
nature as never to learn it sufficiently for our ad- 
vantage. 

3. — GRATITUDE. 

All such forms of kindness as gratitude we should 
freely accord, since every man has received much. A 
thankful heart doubles the favor, as well as qualifies 
us to cheerfully return it. The pleasures of gratitude 



GRATITUDE. 81 

are among the great values of society; and to hold 
men kindly in our hearts is to smooth the way of life. 

Were we as thankful for what we have received as the 
favors of society deserve, we should think more kindly 
of men generally, since nearly everything comes from 
some source unknown. Our ancestors, our prede- 
cessors and our contemporaries have all done some- 
thing for us, which we can return only in gratitude to 
the race. A thankful heart is always worthy of more, 
whereas the ungrateful are not entitled to what they 
have. One who thinks badly of his kind does not 
appreciate what has been done for him, or adequately 
return thanks therefor. When we have received all 
from others, we can not, without ingratitude, think 
badly of all but ourselves. 

Thankfulness is little to give, but much to deny. 
One who withholds it is not richer thereby, but he 
keeps it to his own impoverishment. Gratitude en- 
riches the heart, while its absence alienates respect. 
That which nobody wants, nobody is willing to see 
another withhold. To enrich self, gratitude must be 
imparted to others. The expression of thanks is a 
a great part of life's sweetness, conveying as much 
pleasure to others as the feeling of them does to self. 
The thankless person knows not some of the greatest 
pleasures of life, just as he imparts them not. 
6 



82 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS* 

XII. 
VICES ANTAGONISTIC. 

1.— HATE. 

Of the vices which stand opposed to the kindly 
virtues we have already spoken incidentally. It 
remains to speak of a few specially, and first of hate. 

For hate there is no place in life, and no excuse. It 
is not the proper feeling to have for anything. What 
we can not love we should pity — pity being the 
appropriate affection for all wrong-doers. As we 
should not avenge, but prevent their wrongs, so we 
should feel toward them not enmity but caution. 

Hate has no utility. It gives no pleasure, fur- 
nishes no protection, reforms no depravity. It is sim- 
ply a disagreeable sensation which undermines our 
own character. One can not feel good and hate, but 
as love implies pleasure, hate implies pain ; so that if 
one has simply his own happiness in view, he should 
avoid hate as unprofitable. One can not have great 
dislike for another and at the same time feel satisfac- 
tion with himself. 

Nor is there any corresponding action for hate that 
is at all useful. Its impulse is to kill, wound, insult 
or otherwise injure, which are all acts to be 
shunned ; and when they are necessary, as in war, 



HATE. 83 

there are other feelings to impel us to what should be 
done, as the instinct of self-protection or care for 
society. We should never injure another except for 
his good, or that of the public, and then only from a 
sense of duty, and not ill-will, as a surgeon amputates 
a limb, or an officer restrains a burglar — always as a 
less evil. And as this should be done for the safety of 
society, we should act from love of the society, and not 
hate of the offender. We hang a criminal not for 
committing murder, but that murder may not be com- 
mitted, and the penalties for wrong-doing should all 
be imposed for the benefit of the people, and not for 
vengeance on the criminal. The sufferings of the 
wrong-doer are no compensation to the wronged. Did 
less severe measures deter from crime we should not 
punish at all. Pain must be justified by its necessity. 
And so, too, while private offenders against our 
interests may be punished, and also children and 
pupils for violating commands, it should be to reap 
the advantages of correction, and not to avenge the 
wrong ; and the punishment should be without hate, 
and, if not with actual love, at least with a sense 
of utility. Toward the offender, however bad, we 
should have only regret or solicitude, as for a beast 
not responsible for his offense. For wrong-doers are 
partly impelled by forces outside of them to wrong, 
being largely the instruments of their surrounding? 



84 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

and of inherited impulses. While we should hold 
men to their responsibility it should be to insure their 
integrity, and not to gratify our yindictiveness. 

Enmity, or ill-will, is pure sin. To wish mis- 
fortune to others, or take delight in their sorrow, 
is without a redeeming feature. To be a hater of 
happiness is to be as bad as one can be. Desiring 
one's defeat when he intends wrong, and resisting 
him, even to death, may be justified. But the motive 
must intend some good. We should never wish or act 
for pain on its own account. Jesus so disapproved of 
hate that he called it murder ; and in all religions the 
term is applied to Satan, or the principle of evil. 

Indifference to others is bad enough, being wholly 
without merit ; but hate goes farther, and adds vicious- 
ness to worthlessness. Christ forbade enmity even 
toward enemies, and asked love for them even when 
injuring us. Hatred contains nothing to which one 
can make a generous appeal ; and, being simply desire 
for evil, the action to correspond must be bad. If 
anything should be hated without any admixture of 
love, it is hate. 

2. — ENVY. 

Envy is a form of hate, and has no legitimate place 
whatever. Feeling bad at another's success is pure 
malevolence. For, bad as it is to hate others for 



ENVY. 85 

doing bad, it is immeasurably worse to hate them for 
doing good. While, however, envy is a wishing of evil, 
it commonly takes the negative form of regretting 
good. Congratulation, and not grudge, should be our 
feeling at others' prosperity. Want of sympathy is bad 
enough ; but positive displeasure at men's happiness 
is pure iniquity. If the success of another wrongfully 
interferes with our own, or with the general good, we 
may of course regret it, which is not envy but prefer- 
ence. But to be displeased because he is a rival, or 
because we have failed, is such a low vice that one 
never acknowledges it, being ashamed of his own 
meanness. 

We should not only never act from envy, but never 
feel it. Generosity toward a rival is a manly senti- 
ment, and to wish well to another at our own expense 
the loftiest grace. It is better, however, not to think 
of self in contemplating others' enjoyment (and least 
of all to assume that it will conflict with ours), but to 
be pleased with it because it is enjoyment. The envi- 
ous man is necessarily unhappy, because continually 
aware of something above him ; for, being too little to 
accomplish much himself, such a one must habitually 
see himself outdistanced. 

Envy is, moreover, in itself, a disagreeable feeling 
— a compound of hate and jealousy, which are both 



86 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

disagreeable, It is a union of two vices, and appears? 
aj an abortion of mingled pain and shame. 

3. — ANGER. 

Anger is likewise a useless and dangerous vice. It 
rarely serves a good purpose, but injures both self and 
others. If men were meant for strife, it might be 
beneficial; but since fighting has almost disappeared 
from civilization, it has now no legitimate outlet in 
action. Like a wooden stove, which consumes only 
itself, it is a mind in conflagration, self -destroying its 
power. Anger is usually hate on fire, and is the 
stimulating of a feeling that should have no existence 
at all. If it is wrong to hate, it is worse to inflame 
that hatred. One may, indeed, be angry at wrong, or 
from a sense of indignation; but anger usually rages 
against persons, and not things; and as a feeling 
against wrong - doers it is neither agreeable nor 
profitable. 

One has more satisfaction who is calm, and has the 
further advantage of seeing better how to prevent or 
remedy the wrong. Anger is simply losing one's pres- 
ence of mind at a time when a mind is most needed, 
and passes for a fit of insanity (for to be u angry "and 
"mad" are, in common parlance, identical). Anger 
gets little respect from either friend or foe, and usually 
falls into the power of its antagonist, instead of gets 



ANGER. 87 

him in its power. It is a weakness which uses up 
one's strength, rather than a power employing it; so 
that what is done in anger is usually regretted as 
failure. It is the common cause of quarrels, injuries, 
and even murders, and not of heroic achievements or 
great victories. The general is rarely angry, the 
leader must keep cool, the diplomat must conceal his 
feelings. 

Even as indignation, anger is not the proper feel- 
ing for wrong, but regret, with consideration for a 
remedy. To expend your force on antagonistic feel- 
ing leaves you little opportunity to remedy the wrong ; 
for wrongs should be remedied, and not avenged ; and 
hence cool judgment and deliberate action should take 
the place of impulse. Anger has too much the char- 
acter of a vice to be an avenger of virtue. It carries 
too much hate to be a messenger of love. It disquali- 
fies for action, instead of prepares. One should not 
turn himself into a madman to act where deliberation 
is required. It is giving up your control to circum- 
stances, so that it is only chance if you accomplish 
your purpose. If anger is less guilty than hate, it is 
only because it is insane hatred, instead of deliberate, 
the hatred of a fool being less responsible than of a 
sane man, though not less injurious. 



88 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

4. — CRUELTY. 

(1) — In General. 

Cruelty, or the infliction of pain, is the most direct 
conflict with kindness. It is unkind enough to wish 
pain; to cause it is the extreme of unkindness. Cru- 
elty is hatred put in action, and adds to a bad wish a 
bad will. Deliberate cruelty is short of murder only 
in degree ; enough of it will produce death. Practiced 
on a wife, child, or other person dependent on, or 
trusting in, you, it is the vilest wrong, and punishable 
as crime. It is always the beginning of death, and 
may be physical or mental. By harsh words, threats, 
or the withholding of comforts, the same work of 
destruction may be done as by blows. Many are 
killed a lingering death by unkindness, the slowness 
of the torture adding to the greatness of the murder. 

Every one should, accordingly, take early in life a 
resolution never to be cruel, particularly to the help- 
less or tender, who have no defense against him. If one 
is stronger than another he should feel his greater 
strength as an obligation to protect. The strong 
should help, and not distress, the weak. The ruler 
and warrior who have the lives and health of most 
in their power, have the greatest responsibility here. 
To pain those who are subject to us, or not to protect 
them against paim, is to do the murder which they 



PRACTICAL JOKING. 89 

suffer in consequence. None are more despised than 
those who take advantage of weakness to injure it. 
Weakness should be to us a pledge of care, as sorrow 
should be of relief. Cruelty is the sum of all vices, 
as kindness is of all virtues. 

Most cruelty is, perhaps, the result of thoughtless- 
ness, especially in the young, who have not yet learned 
the distress it produces. But on no subject more 
than this should we early expend thought. When our 
sympathies are once developed we can not be thought- 
lessly cruel ; for we will then ourselves first feel the 
pain we are about to inflict, and, being unable, without 
full consciousness of it, to inflict it, will generally be 
deterred. As the cruelty of thoughtlessness, however, 
is as disastrous as that of deliberation, the thought- 
lessness becomes a crime when its results have once 
been brought to our attention. 

(2)— Practical Joking. 

It is unfortunate that several kinds of cruelty have 
passed into amusements, and are now justified as fun. 
They undermine the character for kindness, and 
should be discouraged as brutalizing. Practical jok- 
ing, in which we produce, and then laugh at, others' 
discomfort, is coarse unkindness and poor wit. When 
there are so many pleasant ways of having amusement 
there is no excuse for taking it out of torment. 



90 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS, 

To feed the inclination to joke is to develop an 
unlovely character. Formerly men were more cruel 
than now, in their amusements as in their pursuits ; as 
when gladiators fought with soldiers or wild beasts for 
the pleasure of the spectators. But, though this has 
ceased, men still get pleasure out of others' pain 
by teasing and like efforts to distress them, the 
pleasure consisting in the anger or discomfiture of the 
ones "joked." 

A still worse " pleasure" is to make sport of 
others' misfortunes, as by laughing at the deformed, or 
mocking the disabled. It is mean to beat a cripple 
with his own crutch, or in any way to make one feel 
worse over his misfortune by calling his attention 
to it, or the attention of others. And yet such is the 
character of most practical joking. Some trouble 
or weakness of a supposed inferior is taken for the 
subject of the sport, and so the misfortune of nature 
aggravated by the unkindness of society. Such 
"fun" should be proscribed by good breeding as 
coarse, as well as by good morals as unkind. 

(3) — Hazing. 

Hazing is a senseless as well as cruel sport — the 
torture of a weak or strange boy in school or company 
before he has had a chance to take precaution for his 
defense. It is betraying one at a time when he is 



DUELING. 91 

entitled to our hospitality. The stranger and the 
defenseless should always be secure from offense. If 
men must annoy anybody, it would be less unmanly to 
take one who can whip his annoyers. To select the 
weaker for our sport is cowardly, and shows meanness 
in ourselves as well as cruelty to others. 

Better pleasures may be had without inflicting 
pain; and all youth, and especially students, should 
be educated to proper sport as well as proper work. 
It is unkind enough to laugh at such sports; it is 
meanly cruel to practice them. In students they are 
often excused on the ground of youth. But they who 
are aspiring to superior wisdom should be the last to 
plead excessive folly. It is a bad beginning for edu- 
cation when our first lessons are in cruelty. The 
enmities engendered in these sports often last through 
life. One rarely knows how deeply such unkindness 
wounds a youth, particularly such sensitive ones as 
are commonly taken for the sport. 

(4) — Dueling. 

Dueling is a little less cruel, and a little more 
senseless, than hazing. It adds some fairness in 
giving the other party an equal chance to gash the 
hazer; but it inflicts more damage for less cause. A 
young man at the age when students' duels are fought 
knows not the value of a whole face; and the scars 



92 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

and loss of a nose are regretted for a life-time, though 
they are the result of an hour's folly. Young men 
should not be given a chance to ruin themselves 
before they get their sense, and the immorality of the 
practice is largely in the custom which sanctions it. 
Having come from a more barbarous age, it should 
not be tolerated now; and he who takes sport out of a 
duel as a looker-on, is a participant in the wrong. 

It is incipient murder to attempt to take so much of 
life ; and it is no mitigation that it is for so little cause. 
The folly of a wrong does not take away its crimi- 
nality; but one can be a fool and a murderer at the 
same time. 

Of those duels which are fought by men, and 
where the object is to take life, as in France, the folly 
and the criminality are greater because of the maturity 
of the offenders and the seriousness of the results. 
Where we should expect more sense we find less, and 
in the " code " vice has reached the hight of stupidity. 
When such a folly is the fashion the community are 
criminals, for if public sentiment incites to death 
men's thoughts are murderous. 

A duel decides nothing, and accomplishes nothing. 
Originating in a time when it was thought that the 
worse would be killed, it has no reason for surviving 
when the superstition is gone. The innocent one is 
just as apt to be killed as the guilty, and so the wrong 



DUELING. 93 

doubled Instead of righted. The " code " is radically 
wrong in nearly every feature, being a series of para- 
doxes. Because one has insulted you, you must give 
him a chance to also kill you, and so run the risk 
of death in order to avenge an insult. If an offender 
should be killed for his insult it is hardly consistent to 
give him a chance to do the killing instead of the 
dying, and so for the criminal to exchange places with 
the executioner. That the wrong-doer should have 
two chances to the other's one to injure seems far 
from equality ; since his first injury is sure, and he has 
an equal chance to do another. 

To kill in a duel is murder, and to fight a duel is to 
attempt murder ; and it is no less murder because you 
expose yourself to danger in committing it, which the 
highwayman also does. It is no excuse for one crime 
to commit another, and the offense of murder is not 
wiped out by the addition of suicide. The duelist 
commits a double crime, since he risks two lives. It is 
no justification in killing a man that you give him 
a chance to be a murderer as well as a victim. To 
make a fool of yourself does not save you from mak- 
ing a criminal of yourself ; but folly and criminality, 
which usually go together, are most completely recon- 
ciled in the duel. 



'J4 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

(5) — Corporal Punishment. 

There is rarely occasion for violence of any kind to- 
ward our fellows. They can more easily be persuaded 
than beaten into right. Men should not privately go to 
war, but seek rather to get rid of their beasthood. The 
rod which once seemed so requisite, now appears sub- 
versive of its purpose. It is used only by those who 
have not the patience or tact to control by kindness. 
Inspired by anger instead of conscience, men flog more 
to please themselves than to correct their victims. It is 
demoralizing to fight when the other party may not fight 
back. The chief good where one starts a fight is in his 
getting whipped, which the aggressor here escapes by 
assaulting only the weaker. Cowardly and brutal he 
damages himself more than he benefits his victim. It is 
illogical to turn one's self into a brute or in any way to 
do wrong, and teach others to do right. 

As men have come to fight less, they have learned to 
plan more, and they now gain their ends by diplomacy 
instead of force. As people in business do not fly to 
arms when they differ, and as we no longer have wager 
of battle at law, there is no excuse for men's going to 
war with children. Man is as much the superior of a 
child in reason as in muscle, and he should prove it by 
the effect of his argument on him. 

While there are exceptional cases of justifiable vio- 
lence, one should not resort to it before exhausting all 



CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. S)5 

other means, and lie must be very short of means who 
quickly takes to force. 

(6) — Cruelty to Animals. 

a. In General — ■ Our kindness should extend be- 
yond man to all life. Wherever there may be pain 
there is the duty to avoid it. We owe a love to the 
dog and the fish; and our sympathy should go as far 
as feeling, and relief as far as suffering. 

Hence kindness to animals is as obligatory as kind- 
ness to men. That they are inferior, and more in our 
power, is but another reason for being more kind to 
them, as to children and sick ones ; and that they can 
not compel it as a reason for specially compelling our- 
selves to it. While there might not be so much rea- 
son to be kind to a tiger in the jungles, who can take 
care of himself, we have no right to torment a caged 
or domesticated beast which has laid off his strength. 
What is at our mercy should receive our mercy. 

The driver of a horse, or owner of a dog, is bound 
to impose no cruel task on his charge, and to withhold 
no food or shelter needed for its comfort. One's self- 
interest, indeed, requires this ; but, beyond this feel- 
ing, he should have a farther concern, since self-inter- 
est is not sufficiently appreciated in its relations 
outside of us. 

He who has power over inferiors is responsible for 



96 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

their comfort, and undue pain suffered by them is 
chargeable to him. The claims of beasts on men have 
never been adequately considered; and because their 
mouths are dumb, so that they can not plead their 
cause, we should voluntarily give such consideration 
to them. Only recently have inferiors among men 
received their dues from superiors ; and now this kind 
consideration is being extended to the lower orders. 
Whereas men once thought that their duties were only 
to men and God, so that they might treat beasts as they 
pleased, now duty is recognized as extending to all the 
living, and cruelty to animals is punished as crime. 

Since our love, and consequent duty, is thus to all 
life, the ordinary terms of morality which were 
hitherto considered so comprehensive, have become 
too narrow (etymologically) to express modern benev- 
olence, and need an extension in the direction of 
animals. 

Thus the word " humanity," once deemed so broad 
as to be identical with kindness, falls short as includ- 
ing only v/hat is " human." " Good will to beasts," 
as well as "good will to men," is necessary. So the 
word " philanthropy," which expresses literally only 
love of man, needs extension to something like 
" philzoophy," or "love of the living." " Love of the 
race," likewise, once deemed broad enough for all good- 
ness, is now narrow, because many objects of universal 



CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 97 

love lie beyond and beneath our race. " Universal 
brotherhood," even, which extends beyond self, and 
country, and sect, to all men, is not broad enough, 
unless we take in the dog and lobster as brothers. 
Love of all that may think or feel, and kindness for 
all that may suffer, should be our limit. 

6. Sport — Much cruelty to animals is practiced as 
sport. It seems paradoxical that men should take their 
pleasures out of the pains of animals, enjoying their 
sufferings and torturing them to stimulate that enjoy- 
ment. This taste should be reformed and refined, es- 
pecially as it is needless. More pleasure can be derived 
from pleasure than from pain ; and the very fact that 
we can enjoy pain is reason enough for abolishing 
amusements which furnish it. It being as degrading to 
man as it is painful to the brutes, we should get rid of 
our capacity for such pleasure, as well as its indul- 
gence. When men not only fail to sympathize with 
animal suffering, but actually enjoy it, and when this 
appetite for pain is so great as to incur vast ex- 
pense and trouble to supply pain-amusements, it 
speaks worse for the men than for the beasts. For 
whereas wild beasts kill animals to eat them, we kill 
them for the pleasure of their death, the hunting man 
being a grade lower in savagery than the hunting 
wolf. 
7 



98 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

The animals Ihus hunted, moreover, are mostly 
weak and innocent (as birds and deer), which are 
more fit for pets than victims. One who has had a 
tame deer, and knows how affectionate such animals 
are, can never go on a deer hunt. To shoot what 
appeals so strongly for our pity, and with no object but 
the enjoyment of its discomfiture, is a heartless cruci- 
fixion of our tenderness. When game or fish must be 
slain for food it should be done with the least pain pos- 
sible to them, and the least pleasure possible to us. 
All butchery should be instantaneous and unenjoyable. 

Such sports as bull-fights, dog-fights and cock- 
fights, are cruel to the animals and degrading to 
the men. Fighting ought not to give pleasure to 
anybody, with its necessary production of pain. 
To see the exercise of passions in animals which 
are vices in us, and to promote them for our 
enjoyment, is a discipline in immorality. It 
hardens one into unsympathy, and gives him a fond- 
ness for war and quarreling among men. Such per- 
sons unconsciously take beasts for their models, and 
follow them as ideals. Horse-racing, whose principal 
vice is the betting, of which we shall speak in the sec- 
tion on Gambling, is cruel when the horses are goaded 
or over-strained for speed, as is usually done ; and we 
should not delight in it when pain is inevitable. 

It is as important to be refined in our amusements 



CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 99 

as in our work; and we should not, by the cruelty of 
our pastime, neutralize the kindness of our occupation. 
Our pleasures should, of all things, not be cruel; for 
while we may, through cupidity, be tempted to take 
our interest out of pain, it is pure malevolence that 
can take enjoyment out of pain. When we want to 
have pleasure we should not start out to produce the 
opposite. If we can not feel the pain of other crea- 
tures and sympathize with it, we at least should not, in 
thinking of it, enjoy it. Sympathy for brutes is as 
obligatory as kindness to them; and we ought not 
to be anything else than unhappy when they are 
suffering. 

We have thus far spoken of Kindness and the spe- 
cial virtues resulting from it — those which pre-sup- 
pose a good heart. We shall speak next of the more 
intellectual virtues of Truth, which pre-supposes also a 
good mind. 



L.cfC. 



CHAPTER SECOND. 

TRUTH. 



L 

VEEACITY. 



Truth, in tfie widest sense, is a most comprehen- 
sive virtue, as it is an adjustment, in mind and 
speech, to whatever is, or a living, internally and 
externally, according to nature. Truth is faithfulness 
to fact; for one may be faithful to things, as well as 
to persons; and, to so love the world — its laws and 
its individual objects — as never to deny any part of 
it, but always recognize and acknowledge it as it is, is 
a most important virtue. To have a true character is 
to be reliable, like the laws of nature, so that 
when one knows the facts he can infer what such 
a person will think and say. One who stands so close 
to nature that he is ever its reflection, and so sympa- 
thizes with it that he never prefers the unreal, either 
to think or to utter, is the highest type of man. To 
have a fondness for fact, so as to want to see it, and 
make others see it, is to possess the spirit of truth. 

To lie is to betray knowledge, or deny Nature, as 

IOO 



VEBACITY. 101 

Judas betrayed Christ. We owe every one a tran- 
script of our thoughts when we speak; and as true as 
Nature is to us in giving us her image, we should be 
to man in giving him a reflection. We should, like a 
mirror, be a faithful reporter of what is given us, and 
not, like a disturbed surface, reflect an uncertain and 
varying image. 

Society depends largely on veracity, since we must 
use one another's knowledge as well as their produc- 
tions ; and to give false information is, like giving false 
coin, to be guilty of counterfeiting. We owe every- 
body the knowledge he asks for, and can not pay it in 
any currency but truth. Fact is a commodity as much 
as cheese; and because it is not paid for, it is no less 
the subject of cheating. He who lies gives a rotten 
egg for a good one, and breaks one of the laws of 
trade. Needing your information to conduct my busi- 
ness, as much as I need your grain, I am robbed if you 
give me anything else; so that the liar is a kind of 
thief. To take from one the facts that he needs to 
know is often as damaging as to take his money or his 
food; and the obligation to truth should be felt to be 
as great as to honesty. In fact, lying is a part of 
almost every dishonesty ? since few wrongs travel 
alone, and deception is the most congenial companion 
for them all. 

Without veracity we could not live in society at 



102 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

all ; for we are as dependent on the words of others as 
on their help. In fact, men usually help one another 
with words ; and giving a falsehood for a truth is like 
giving a blow for a lift. Veracity is the means of 
communication in all co-operation; and it does not 
require many falsehoods to destroy the machinery of 
society, just as it does not require many breaks in the 
gearing to stop a whole factory. Truth must be 
habitual to be of value, and must be known to be 
habitual. When there is not enough for reliance, men 
are resolved again into individuals, as if society were 
not organized, and can do no more than what each can 
do of himself. Co-operation requires confidence. A liar 
is worth no more to society than an idler, since he can 
not be fitted into his place. He is like a broken link 
in a chain, which renders worthless the whole chain. 
When we are supported on one another, if one gives 
way all support is gone. 

Hence truth is sought in all employes and public 
officers. No trait has more commercial value than 
veracity. When one is known to be unflinchingly 
true, so that in every circumstance he can be relied 
on, and especially in the greatest temptation, he be- 
comes a man much sought after, because there are 
numberless trusts for which no others are fitted, and 
because truthfulness carries nearly all other virtues 



VERACITY. 103 

with it (for he is not apt to commit offenses who is 
truthful in speaking of them). 

Truth must be habitual, as we have said, to be of 
any value. If one lies occasionally, he can not be 
relied on; for one requiring assurance can not know 
whether one of his lies may not come just when truth 
is most needed. One should habituate himself never 
to lie, but make truth a matter of principle. One who 
lies at all is a liar, and the fact that he can lie is a 
fatal defect. The only men who are very valuable for 
their truth are those who are known not to lie under 
any circumstances. If employes, clients, customers, 
children, or readers, believe that when one says any- 
thing it is true, there is an assurance of great value, 
and that man is much needed. When his utterance is 
taken as the last word, so that men are ready to act 
upon it, business can proceed confidently, and the 
great waste of suspicion and timidity is spared. One 
has much who can be certain in his business ; and cer- 
tain he can be only when he has truthful men to 
depend on. To be true, and to have a reputation for 
truth, is thus a large capital for the average man. 

One given to lying may lie when he does not aim 
to; for liars lie as much by mistake as by design. 
One accustomed to lie learns not to see the truth, and 
is unreliable even when he intends to be true. To 
always tell the truth is a quick way to learn the truth. 



104 HE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

For he who is always anxious to tell the truth is 
anxious always to have the truth to tell; so that truth 
and intelligence generally go together ; whereas many 
are liars because they do not know the truth. The 
truth likes to be well treated, and will not make 
acquaintance with one who does not confess it. 

One can not lie much without being known as a 
liar. It is as hard to conceal a lie as a noise; it gets 
out as easily as a sound gets through a key-hole. 
Truth is all related, so that a lie is self-detective, like 
a mistake in book-keeping. He who would lie much, 
and preserve a reputation for truth, will find his task 
harder than to tell the truth uniformly, and in the end 
less successful. 

The disadvantages of lying are obvious. One 
known to lie is not believed, whether he lies or speaks 
the truth. His lie becomes worthless, and he can not 
use the truth to advantage. He has simply lost his 
power in society. To have any influence he must go 
among strangers, and even they will generally find 
him out before they confide in him enough for his ad- 
vantage. A course of lying is short-lived, since after 
a quick discovery it dies from its own worthless- 
ness; so that the liar is commonly an insignificant 
person. It requires much power of truth to make an 
influential man. The liar has not hold of the forces 
of nature, like the true man, who lives according to 



CANDOR. 105 

nature; but he presents the pitiable spectacle of one 
who can not get his truth believed; for he who will- 
fully deceives loses in time the power to instruct. 



II. 

CANDOR 



One may acquire the habit not only of telling the 
truth, but of looking it. It is possible to become so 
permeated with the truth that, like the measles, it will 
show itself in the life, — working out in the appear- 
ance and manner. It is important to let truth have 
this natural expression, so that people may read it in 
us; for nothing pleases more than the appearance of 
truth, which, like kindness, furnishes a sort of beauty. 
For many subtle graces grow out of a thorough recon- 
ciliation with the truth, whose natural expression is 
candor. Men become thereby easy, unaffected and 
affable, with an open countenance and unrestrained 
voice; because they have nothing which they want to 
conceal, or make appear otherwise than it is. They 
elicit confidence, as they impart pleasure, and wield an 
influence as the very power of truth's expression. 

Living the truth, is, therefore, as important as tell- 
ing the truth; for men can act the truth as easily as 



106 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

they can act a lie, the tongue not being the only mem- 
ber used in truth-telling any more than in lying. As 
the eye, the arms and the whole body can lie, and even 
silence can do so, so can they speak the truth, and 
normally do so; so that we have as many ways of 
instructing as we have of deceiving, and are re- 
sponsible for the impressions men get from us, no 
matter how we give them. Conduct has its natural 
language, as well as words, and is often more power- 
ful and accurate in utterance. When we assume an 
unusual conduct to express ourselves, we not only are 
liable for the error imparted, but become weak through 
exhibiting a contradiction between our thought and 
manner. We also disclose, as a rule, the intended de- 
ception through the awkwardness of an inexperienced 
role. Men judge of truth, as of other things, by its 
fruits; and truth acted does not give error imparted. 
Our life, accordingly, should be truth displayed, or an 
illustrated edition of truth. As the offspring of light 
truth should always appear illuminated. 



PREJUDICE. 107 

in. 

PBEJUDICE. 

We should always tell the truth to ourselves. Many 
lie so habitually that they do not observe that it is not 
another that they are lying to, and they actually expect 
themselves to believe their own lies. Sometimes they 
are the only persons who will do so. A liar, as we 
have said, soon comes not to recognize the truth. An 
uncandid person forgets how to use evidence, and 
holds opinions without reason. Dealing unfairly with 
others, he learns unconsciously to deal unfairly with 
himself, holding views which he knows to be not true, 
or would know if he allowed himself to think. Many 
want to believe particular things to be true, and by 
trying to make others believe them, come to try to 
make themselves believe them. There is much of this 
persuading of one's self ; and often one finds himself 
his own easiest dupe. He soon gets to believe his 
own lies, and then for the first time tells them to 
others for truth. For men's errors of opinion are 
generally of their own making; so that it is our duty 
to know the truth, as well as to want it. 

We should, accordingly, recognize the importance 
of mental honesty, and be true to our own minds. 
Most errors result from our own desires, rather than 



108 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

from others' deceptions. Mistakes will not tarry long 
if they are not hospitably received. We have generally 
the means of knowing the truth where the truth is 
important to us, so that error is more the result of 
prejudice than of impotence. 

As it is wrong to tell a lie to others, it is wrong to 
believe one of our own lies. It is as immoral gener- 
ally to believe a thing when we know it is false, as to 
tell it under such circumstances. There would not be 
so many liars if there were not so many believers of 
lies, the supply, as in othar things, being regulated by 
the demand; and to encourage lying by credulity, and 
especially to be both liar and dupe of the same false- 
hood, is a vicious imbecility. To take untruth into 
our minds is as bad as to send it out of our mouths. 

It is obligatory, therefore, to resort to all means to 
learn the truth — to keep open the eyes, to discrimi- 
nate in what we think we remember, and to reason 
impartially. It is wrong to believe or disbelieve 
against the evidence, or on insufficient evidence, or 
with more certainty than the evidence warrants. 
Fidelity to truth requires a candid estimate of the 
probabilities in doubtful matters, and a recognition, 
acceptance and acknowledgement of what seems proven. 
To deny to evidence its natural force is faithlessness to 
nature, and you thereby become a liar to yourself. 
There is such a thing as the morals of mental conduct, 






PREJUDICE. 109 

or the right and wrong of forming opinions. Error is 
guilt when it is avoidable, and we should recognize the 
virtue of having right opinions. 

Prejudice is the enemy of all this, or the opposite 
vice. One who will not let himself think, lest he learn 
what he wants not to be true, or who forces himself to 
assent to what he knows is false, is guilty of his own 
errors, and an essentially false man. To accept what 
you know is untrue is to tell a lie to yourself, and so 
to make yourself a liar generally; for after you have 
accepted it yourself, you w T ill be telling it as true to 
others. For nobody can be more truthful to others 
than he is to himself. The prejudiced man is neces- 
sarily a liar; for, having made up his own information 
out of lies, he has, of course, only lies to tell to others. 
And what is admitted to your own mind as a known 
lie you are not likely to give out as an unwitting lie; 
but dishonesty will accompany all you have to do with 
that opinion. He who lies to himself, therefore, lies 
indirectly to many. 



110 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

IV. 

BIGOTEY. 

Hence bigotry, which is the offspring of prejudice, 
is a degraded and offensive vice. It is a zeal founded 
on insincerity. For the bigot does not propagate his 
views because he believes them true, but because he 
fears they may be false, so that he is solicitous about 
getting for them an acceptance through favor. 

His means are usually dishonest — craft, misrepre- 
sentation, and especially over- statement. He is unjust 
to others and their views, and is mean and unsympa- 
thetic besides, being one of the most unlovely charac- 
ters known to either religion, politics, or society. His 
utterances are colored by the requirements of his sect, 
party, or interest. He is hard to reason with, as truth 
does not take effect on his unwilling mind. Desirous 
of seeing only what confirms his prejudice, he looks 
not for truth but for persuasives, and, being timid 
without caution, disputes without arguing. 

The soul of insincerity, the bigot can not be a true 
man, any more than he can be a loving one. When 
one recognizes no good but the interest of his own 
sect or party, he can not love much beyond the same 
limits, and so has none of the broader feelings of the 
benevolent man. His narrowness unfits him for 



HYPOCRISY. Ill 

nearly all that is good in life, and so belittles him that 
what good he does do is trivial. Bigotry gives neither 
reason, feeling nor conduct a chance. 



HYPOCRISY. 

From bigotry it is only a step to hypocrisy. As 
bigotry is an insincere opinion, hypocrisy is an insin- 
cere expression of it. Many, having opinions which 
they do not like, and can not disown to themselves, 
misrepresent them to others. Because they are un- 
profitable they do not want them to prevail, and so 
live a life contrary to them. Hypocrisy embraces 
many kinds of lying, as well as some other vices. It 
is a contradiction between man's outer and inner life, 
taking on other people's opinions for show, and trying 
to act as if we had their motives. It is a mean vice, 
inasmuch as it has no confidence in self, and, like 
bigotry, is afraid to trust truth. It goes beyond 
prejudice, which usually believes a lie, by giving 
itself up to be controlled by a lie; and it is all the 
meaner because it surrenders to what it not only 
knows is not true, but does not even respect as false- 
hood, 



112 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

The hypocrite is easily detected, because, having 
many ways of lying, he has many ways of disclosing 
his lies. For it is harder to keep a life of falsehood 
concealed than to keep a single falsehood concealed. 
Lying continually, therefore, and by his whole con- 
duct, he is always liable to discover his real opinions 
to others ; so that he who begins by deceiving all, ends 
by being the only one that is deceived; and by the 
time he believes he is sincere nobody else does. For 
what the hypocrite gains in sincerity, others lose in 
confidence. For, though one may, by much tamper- 
ing with truth, actually believe his own lies, it is not 
usually until he has destroyed all belief in them by 
others; for the self -deceiver soon knows not how to 
deceive so as to make others believe. 



VI. 
PEEJUEY. 



Perjury is deemed more criminal than lying, be- 
cause it intends some wrong. Men swear only in 
legal proceedings, where property is commonly in- 
volved ; so that he w T ho lies under oath lies away 
another's rights. Falsehood is here practiced for a 



PERJURY. 113 

purpose, and, the purpose being bad, adds injustice to 
the lying, so that perjury is a double wrong. 

This crime is committed, too, when the swearer's 
attention is specially called to the truth of his state- 
ment, and when, by extra formalities, he engages spe- 
cially to tell the truth. He cannot perjure himself 
thoughtlessly, as he may thoughtlessly lie; but his 
par jury is with full knowledge both that the truth is 
expected and that it is important. Everything is done, 
too, by concentration on the subject, to refresh the 
memory, and, by examination and cross-examination, 
to elicit accuracy of expression ; so that perjury is 
always willful, and has no excuse in impotence, forget- 
fulness or inattention. One tells the double lie of say- 
ing he is about to tell the truth, and then telling the 
falsehood, thus both lying and declaring his lie not a 
lie. And, furthermore, he calls God to witness his 
truthfulness, and punish him if it is not genuine. 

Perjury is, accordingly, punished as a crime; be- 
cause the damage suffered by the loss of a suit is 
largely caused by the liar. While the plain liar is 
left to the natural laws of conscience and society for 
his punishment, the perjurer's offence takes on so 
much of dishonesty, that it is treated as something 
more than lying. 



114 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

VII. 
BEIBEEY. 

Bribery, for the same reason, is a doubk crim^, 
and punished as a gross form of injustice. It involves 
two sins : first, lying; and, secondly, getting another 
to lie. It is lying for a purpose, too, like perjury, and 
so wrongs one beyond the mere withholding of the 
truth. 

The briber enters into lying as a business, and 
employs an assistant; and his crime multiplies as it 
proceeds ; for it is a wrong to himself, an attack on 
another's character (in inducing him to wrong), and 
an attack on a third party (to get something from him 
by falsehood). It is making crimes join hands for 
injury, and confederating men against men's rights. 
One who bribes, or is bribed, is always known as vile, 
and so, with his co-conspirators at least, is committed 
to crime, and not likely to be reclaimed. 



CHAPTER THIRD. 

HONESTY. 



I. 

IN GENEBAL. 

Honesty, or justice, is a comprehensive virtue, em- 
bracing, like kindness and truth, all others, if followed 
throughout its connections. Giving to others their 
dues, while retaining for self its rights, is the sum of 
morality; and one can not do a wrong that does not 
antagonize this principle. The virtue of honesty, 
therefore, like the other virtues, illustrates, in its com- 
prehensiveness, the general fact, already explained, 
of the unity of morality, and its relation to all good. 

In honesty we recognize specially the rights of 
others, and particularly their property rights. This 
virtue consists in doing nothing to injure such rights, 
as kindness consists in doing nothing to injure their 
personal rights. A man's property is almost as closely 
connected with his happiness as is his body, espe- 
cially in a complicated social state, where we must so 
much use others and their work. 

For our property represents our interest in what 

"5 



116 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

others produce, and is the means of using them. By 
it we get their labor, attentions, accumulated products, 
and whatever they have that we want. And to make 
this transfer well, so as to preserve our rights and 
theirs, is what we call honesty, or justice. 

There are endless opportunities, and temptations, 
to get more than we are entitled to, or to withhold 
something that we owe ; and most of the contentions of 
life concern property. These give rise to law- 
suits, which are private wars, and to the artifices of 
trade and industry. The aim of justice is to make 
men's affairs go smoothly amid their conflicting inter- 
ests — to fix and recognize the rights and duties of 
each, so that, keeping within their respective limits, 
men shall not come in conflict. 

For this we should recognize others' rights as our 
own, and get a keen sense of them, as in kindness we 
get a keen sense of their feelings, whereby their suffer- 
ings become ours. Their wrongs should, likewise, 
become ours ; and we should not only do nothing 
against their rights, but do what we can to procure 
them. Men are happy only as the rights of all are 
secured, a good state existing when there is com- 
plete justice. 

For this we must have many virtues, as the expres- 
sion of honesty — fairness, moderation, helpfulness, 
and all others, which have been mentioned as applica- 



THEFT. 117 

ble to persons, extended now also to their possessions; 
so that we do not try to get what is justly theirs, or 
retain more than is justly ours. 

To this end we must, restraining our cupidity, keep 
our wants within our rights, and our desires within 
our needs; since, by getting more than we should 
have, somebody must suffer by getting less than he 
needs. Property should be held with reference to the 
whole, since, as already explained, we own our pos- 
sessions subject to the rights of others in them. 
While all are entitled to what is necessary, none 
are entitled to that without which others can not 
have enough. 



II. 

THEFT. 



The most familiar form of dishonesty is stealing; 
and, while all kinds of injustice may be deemed theft, 
in its most general sense, there is a special crime 
which consists in getting others' property without 
compensation, and generally without their knowledge. 

The thief is an enemy of society, like the wolf, or 
earthquake, and to be treated as such. In early times 
he was deemed unfit to live, and was executed for the 



118 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

smallest offense. Now he is simply removed from the 
society in which he is disqualified to live, and shut up 
where he can not practice his vice, and where he may 
be reformed and again fitted for the liberty which he 
has forfeited. 



III. 
CHEATING. 



Stealing, however, is only one form of dishonesty, 
and, in civilized countries, the least common. Prop- 
erty is so secured that the plain thief has few chances. 
Criminals do their robbing by getting the owner's con- 
fidence, and then betraying it, — by misrepresentation, 
false pretenses, defalcation, and other treacherous 
methods. Instead of breaking into a safe the thief 
now gets the key, stealing being by persuasion 
instead of force. A criminal once said that he had 
thirty-six ways of getting other people's money, the 
most honest of which was sly theft. 

Where so much confidence is required as in modern 
society, dishonesty is practiced by corresponding forms 
of abuse of confidence — by the frauds of employes, 
trustees, attorneys, and managers of corporations. 
Everybody relies on many who may be possible 



CHEATING. 119 

rogues ; and the chances to take his property are as 
numerous as to take his life. Over-charging, under- 
serving, and false weighing, are among the many- 
kinds of cheating. We can cheat men before their 
eyes without their knowing it, and almost without 
knowing it ourselves. There are as many ways of 
cheating as of being unkind. Orphans, servants, 
tenants, the public, all may be victims, there being as 
many crimes as there are relations to distinguish 
them. 

We need a delicate sense of justice to discern, and 
guard against, the varied forms of dishonesty. There 
is hardly a transaction in which there may not be a 
wrong; and the perfectly just man, whom Plato re- 
garded as the highest type of humanity, is one who in 
all these possible transactions gives to others their 
rights. 

For the thoroughly honest man, as for the 
thoroughly truthful one, there is a great demand. In 
the many places requiring confidence there are more 
occasions for honesty than there are people to fill them. 
One widely known to be honest need never want 
employment. The greatest need of business is men to 
trust, — to trust in large and small affairs, out of sight 
and in temptation, with money and with power, with 
secrets and with missions — men who will do what is 
required, and do it faithfully, Honesty, like truthful- 



120 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

ness, has great commercial value, the demand being 
always larger than the supply, and the better the 
quality the greater the demand for it. A thoroughly 
honest man doubles the value of his employer; for he 
can be put where the employer would otherwise have 
to be, so that he who has many such multiplies him- 
self and enlarges his business. 

The difficulty of getting honest men lies in the fact 
that it takes much time to develop one, and much to 
find him out. While a rogue can be discovered by 
one act, an honest man must be tried often. For 
while a rogue can sometimes be honest, an honest man 
can never be a rogue. He must, accordingly, be tried 
in many places, with a variety of trusts, and under 
manifold circumstances of temptation, to be fully 
tested, or fully known as honest. For, if in all these 
experiences he makes one slip, showing dishonesty, he 
is thrown aside like a broken glass, because he is known 
as not honest. One example proves as well as a 
hundred, that he can be dishonest, which disqualifies 
him for the requirements of a trust. On the other 
hand if he is thoroughly known, even by one man, as 
honest, this opinion spreads into a general reputation. 

Any one, therefore, thinking to lead a business life, 
should, first of all, provide himself with a character 
and reputation for honesty — or, rather, provide him- 
self with the character, when society will furnish the 



EMPLOYER AND EMPLOYE. 121 

reputation ; for honesty can no more conceal itself than 
dishonesty, and even slander can not long defeat it. 



IV. 
EMPLOYEE AND EMPLOYE. 

Between employer and employ^ there are special 
demands for honesty, as each is much in the other's 
power, the employer having some of his business, and 
the employe all of his wages, dependent on the other. 
For, though we are all in this mutual relation of aid, 
which constitutes society, the employer and employ^ 
have most completely given themselves to each other. 
There is, accordingly, a great chance here for oppres- 
sion on one side, and treachery on the other ; and one 
can, in the long run, cause about as much damage as 
the other. 

The employer's duty is fairness, consideration for 
comfort, prompt and liberal payment, increase of 
wages with advance of profits, and the respect due an 
equal. 

The employe's duty is faithfulness, in which he 
makes his employer's interest his own, and serves it as 
zealously as would the master himself, working his 
full time and full strength, and accounting for every 
penny entrusted to him. 



122 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

One should not injure his employer by quitting 
work without notice, or striking without cause. Be- 
fore demanding more compensation he should consider 
whether he is worth it, and when he can not get 
enough, he should peaceably go elsewhere. One 
ought not to injure another by either working for him 
or leaving him, but deal as fairly as he would be dealt 

by- 

If a man makes himself necessary to his employer, 
he will be retained and promoted ; and when known to 
be thoroughly reliable he becomes necessary. One re- 
luctantly parts with a faithful man, and the greater 
his fidelity the higher his promotion — the most 
honest men being required at the top. 

We should in honesty, as in love, put our fellow in 
our place, and act toward him as if we had his desires, 
learning as an employe to do what another wants, 
and substituting his will in work for ours. 

There should be much kindness in business. In- 
stead of considering our employer an antagonist, or 
competitor, we should regard him as a friend, and 
avoid all antagonism between labor and capital as 
mutually injurious. One can not enjoy his employ- 
ment without a love for it, and for his employer's 
interest, just as he can not enjoy anything if acting 
from selfishness or antagonism. The lover of his 
work, and of its success, does his work well, and does 



PROMISES. 123 

much of it ; so that he generally gets promotion as 
well as enjoyment ; for services are measured, like 
everything else, by success. 

We should, therefore, see that our employer has 
success, as far as we can effect it, and keep ourselves 
in harmony with the spirit of mutual aid, which un- 
derlies society. We may ourselves soon be the em- 
ployers, and want the advantage of this faithfulness; 
for the faithful employ^ generally becomes an 
employer, — a partner, manager or holder of some re- 
sponsibility — no one's position in business, any more 
than in society, being permanent. 



PEOMISES. 



A promise may be valuable as well as a service, es- 
pecially when given for a promise, which is a contract. 
Men make all their combinations in promises before 
they complete them in co-operation. We must rely on 
one another for the future, as well as for the present, 
so that keeping a promise should be deemed as sacred 
as telling the truth. 

For a promise is an assertion which we have the 
power to make true ; and when we say that anything 
shall be done, we should feel the obligation sq 



124 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

strongly that we can say it is done. When, by proof 
of our faithfulness, others can thus feel assured, we 
will be much in demand for employers, customers, at- 
torneys and for all places where reliance is required. 

When a promise is made, there is usually some 
reliance placed upon it, so that to break it is to betray 
a trust. If we do not perform our engagement, an- 
other suffers, so that the violation of a promise is a 
form of dishonesty. 

To change our opinion is no justification of default; 
since along with the promise should go the provision 
for its execution. One has no right to promise what 
he can not do; and consideration should precede a 
promise rather than follow it. After making an en- 
gagement we should consider, not its wisdom, but its 
execution. 

Our duties that lie in the future are an important 
part of ethics, and should be promptly done when they 
are reached. Others should be able to trust us for the 
future as well as the present, and believe that what we 
promise will be true, as well as that what we say is 
true. The bringing of our promises into truth, or the 
turning of engagements into facts, is a great part of 
honesty. People get a property in promises when they 
are once made ; and every man should regard his 
promise as his note. 

He who keeps his promise gets credit, and he can 



PROMISES. 125 

go through the world on promises. He thus has the 
aid of men — of their services and their property — 
when he wants it, and not merely when he can give an 
equivalent for it; and it is highly important in busi- 
ness to have what we want at the right time. He 
whose promises are as good as his money may have 
out as many notes as he wants to circulate. 

Most litigation arises from broken promises, which 
lie also at the foundation of bankruptcies and financial 
depression. Impairing confidence, they stop business, 
which is intolerant of suspicion. Men's increasing 
caution after disappointment limits ventures and causes 
delay. Promise-keeping is to business what truth- 
telling is to society, the keeping of contracts fully and 
on time being the life of trade. 

To take advantage of inadequate laws, or of inaccu- 
racies in contracts, to escape their obligation, is as 
dishonest as to omit any other duty. The ability of 
others to enforce your contract is not the measure of 
your duty to perform it; and he who takes hold of the 
law to injure his neighbor is no better than he who 
takes hold of a club. Litigation should be resorted to 
only to get our rights, and not to deprive others of 
theirs. We have more to do as duty than the law 
requires, and should strive to live so faithfully to our 
engagements that the law need never be invoked for 
us or against us. 



126 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

VI. 

GAMBLING. 

1. — IN GENERAL. 

Gambling is a unique form of dishonesty, which 
consists in getting other people's money without giv- 
ing an equivalent. That it does not generally succeed 
does not diminish the guilt, since one at least aims at 
the wrong. That he risks his own property to accom- 
plish it does not mitigate the injustice, since he 
always hopes to get more. Nobody gambles expect- 
ing a mere equivalent. And that he usually gets less 
is proof of his folly, and not of his generosity. 

The gambler commits the double wrong of risking 
his own money imprudently, and trying to get an- 
other's dishonestly. And, being sure to create loss, if 
long continued, he braves poverty in one party or the 
other. 

Property should go from one to another only as 
exchange. To create arbitrary routes of alienation, so 
that he shall get who has not earned, and he lose who 
has not spent, is to unsettle all interests. Men become 
thereby reckless, and, losing easily, want to gain 
easily ; so that they become in time dissatisfied with 
the slow way of earning money, and engage in methods 
of cunning to become rich. 



BAFFLING. 127 

If this be long continued, men will not have their 
property by any just title; and thieves will feel justi- 
fied in taking it by their method — without risks — 
which is scarcely less dishonest. Gambling is a thiev- 
ing which consists in getting the victims' consent to 
the theft. 

2. — RAFFLING. 

Gambling is generally done, especially at first, in 
some form which, from the smallness of the risks, or 
the ulterior purpose of amusement, goes by some other 
name. This, however, leads to the common forms of 
gambling, and is, besides, as bad in itself. As long 
as we try to get others' property by games, or without 
an equivalent, it is gambling; and the fact that the 
stakes are small, or the game interesting, does not 
change the vice. There is simply the difference be- 
tween stealing a cow and stealing a pig. 

To "take chances," whether at a church fair or 
saloon raffle, is to gamble and develop the gambler's 
passion. That the object is charity is no mitigation 
of the evil, since the hopes of the players are excited 
in the same way, and the stakes paid on the same 
principle. The fact that the charitable institution has 
the greater chance of winning, does not make it less 
dishonest on the part of the players, or more fair on 
the part of the charitable institution. 



128 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

Churches, above all, should shun these games, 
which imprudently excite in children the passion for 
winning, and then withhold the chance — thus cheat- 
ing them as well as tempting them. Enterprises 
which aim to lead in morality should exclude the vices 
from their methods. By gambling they teach a bad 
lesson, and set a dishonest example to enforce it. For 
to gamble for religion no more purines the sin than 
to lie or steal for it. And those who learn to gamble 
for religion rarely stop there, but put to use in the 
gambling dens the lessons they learn in the churches. 

Governments also should avoid such methods of 
money -raising as State lotteries, since by them they 
lead their subjects in crime, and prepare, by the plant- 
ing of vice, for their own overthrow, 

3. — PARLOR GAMES. 

Games where money or other valuables are risked 
should not be tolerated in homes. Parents should be 
the last to teach their children crimes. And they 
should be the slowest to believe that gambling will 
stop at home, any more than that raffling will stop in 
the churches. The taste and skill acquired in the 
parlor will find exercise in the saloon, and, instead of 
pennies, dollars will be risked. 

To teach crimes to women does not make them 
more respectable, although it makes the women less so. 



PARLOR GAMES. 129 

For gambling does not change its character with the 
sex of the player ; and. those who have the regulation 
of society should not plant schools for spreading vice 
through the customs. 

To play for the love of it is dangerous, like drink- 
ing for the love of it; in fact, it does not become spe- 
cially dangerous till a love of it is developed. To put 
up money, therefore, to " increase the interest of the 
game," is to specially develop the dangerous fascina- 
tion, which at first is about all that feeds the vice. 
To play for " favors " or trifling expenses is specially 
demoralizing as furnishing most playing for the 
money, and so providing a cheap way of exercising 
the vice and its passions. 

The money won at games is as dangerous as the 
money lost, since by it the winner has a better opinion 
of gambling, and is more desirous of playing again. 
The whole practice is bad, and should never be 
indulged for pastime, charity or business. Honesty 
should be taught in small things; and parents who 
teach their children that it is wrong to steal a pin, 
should not teach them that it is right to win a cent. 

Money should be earned, not won; acquired by 
effort, not chance; and received for an equivalent, and 
not a prize. When men get their money by chance, 
they want to acquire other things by chance; and, 



130 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

instead of a life of work, directed by reason, under 
law, they want to live a life of lawless luck. 

4. — BETTING. 

Betting is the most popular form of gambling, and 
therefore the worst. It is equally bad in principle 
with faro or roulette. The risk is simply taken on a 
horse or candidate, instead of on cards or a wheel. 
The money is staked all the same, and is won or lost 
by chance. No equivalent is given for what is gained, 
and the winner has no title but luck. 

This practice is the more deplorable because the 
games bet on are generally played by youth, so that 
school boys are early drawn into gambling through 
their interest in the sports. The tendency to bet 
has almost turned our games into a business, instead 
of an amusement; and boys run, row and skate for 
money, instead of fun. Many have no other business 
than playing games for betters, while others have no 
other business than betting on them. The practice 
promotes idleness, or employment as worthless as 
idleness. 

Games should be played for their enjoyment and 
healthfulness, not for their income; and the object 
should be to play well, not to guess well. It de- 
grades even sports to make them means to ulterior 
ends. Our amusements, like our affections, should be 



SPECULATION. 131 

exercised for themselves, and not for profit. When 
we sell everything away from life, and barter in our 
pleasures, we reduce ourselves to simply money-making 
automatons. Business should not unduly interfere 
with pleasure, any more than pleasure with business. 
Above all should we not allow our popular pastimes 
to be prostituted for illegal gain. When our amuse- 
ments are captured by our vices, it sometimes becomes 
necessary to abolish both; so that a pleasure often 
passes out of existence because of its company. 

5. SPECULATION. 

Speculation may be a form of gambling, since men 
may bet on wheat or pork, as well as on cards or 
horses. If they buy or sell because they want the 
articles, or will place them nearer to those who do, it 
is legitimate traffic, and the profit legitimate gain; for 
all merchants buy with the expectation of selling for 
more. But in selling they usually transfer the goods 
nearer to their use. To buy, however, simply to sell, 
and repurchase only to resell, leaving the merchandise 
always where it is, and having no other object than to 
get the difference between the price at one deal and 
another, is simply to bet on what the next price will be. 

For the principle is the same whether we bet on 
what the market will be or on what the cards will be. 
As far as we, or our customers, are concerned, it is a 



132 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

game of chance; and the money put up is simply lost 
or wins more. If it were laid on a faro table the ven- 
ture would be the same. Speculations on the Board 
of Trade or Stock Exchange need not be gambling, 
because values are often bought for investment or use ; 
but they may be gambling, and when conducted as we 
have explained they are gambling. 



VII. 

BLACK-MAIL. 

One of the most contemptible ways of getting an- 
other's money is black-mail, which is threatening to 
cause trouble unless bought off. By threatening to 
expose a secret, cause an arrest or assist an opponent, 
one often wrings from another a payment without any 
claim. The black-mailer thus sells his silence, his 
fidelity, or something else in which he has no legiti- 
mate property. He trades on another's fears, the per- 
plexities of his neighbors being his stock in trade. 
He gets compensation, not for doing a service, but for 
refraining from an injury. Sometimes he sells justice, 
as by engaging not to inform on crime. He makes 
money, in short, out of men's misfortunes by threaten- 
ing to make more misfortune if not paid for desisting. 



REPARATION. 133 

Black-mail is everywhere punished as crime, and, 
in its plainest forms, is practiced only by confessed 
criminals. But there are methods of business which 
approach black-mail ; as starting a competing house 
with the object of being bought off, or putting a 
livery-stable on a fashionable avenue to compel the 
residents to buy the lot. Many feints are made 
simply to scare others into giving something for de- 
sisting. Adventurers thus trade on established busi- 
ness, and sell their power to harm. When lawyers 
bring suits merely to harass, when prices are lowered 
to drive out competitors, when bids are made to com- 
pel others to buy, and when, in any way, it is sought 
to compel persons to settle where there is no claim, it 
is black-mail, although there may be some other busi- 
ness with it. 



VIII. 

BEPAKATION. 

Honesty requires, when there has been injury, that 
there be reparation. It is not enough to be sorry for 
a wrong, or to desist from it. The injured person 
should be indemnified. We are not honest as long as 
we hold the fruits of dishonesty. Our wrong-doing 



134 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

does not stop with the act, but goes with the results. 
To make right is as important as to do right ; and 
setting aright our wrongs is a great part of honesty. 

We can not cut off the past from our obligations. 
The evil done carries its claims over into the future 
against us, and they are claims until we pay them. 
Many of us are thus under obligations to the past. 
What we can not do we should, indeed, dismiss from 
our conscience, as from our effort ; but there is rarely a 
wrong that we can not right, just as there is rarely an 
evil that we can not remedy. 

The only cure for past wrongs is present compensa- 
tion ; and we should see that other men have been 
treated right, as well as that they are treated right. 
We ought not to keep the results of our past wrongs 
even to help us to do right now. Our first duty is to 
the wronged; when that is done we should see that no 
more wrong is caused 



CHAPTER FOURTH, 

FAMILY DUTIES. 



Our duties are modified, and often created, by our 
individual relations. While we have duties to all, we 
have special duties to some, as we have special loves. 
The duties between husband and wife, between parent 
and child, between relatives and friends, and between 
neighbors and countrymen, are some of these. They 
follow our opportunities and obligations to love these 
classes, and are part of one general circle of obliga- 
tions. I shall speak in this chapter of family duties, 
and in the next of the wider range of duties which 
affect the nation and the race. 

The family is a small state, as the state is a large 
family. In the first we have a government whose 
principles are more fully developed in the latter. 

The duties of the family are those growing out of 
the relation of husband and wife, parent and child, 
brother and sister, and of remoter relatives. We have 
spoken of these in considering the varieties of love be- 
tween these several classes, and in discussing forbear- 
ance, tenderness, mutual preference and other virtues 

135 



136 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

which are specially required in the family ; — all of 
which look to the pleasant and easy intercourse of men 
in the most intimate relations. As we are most with 
our families, our duties, and especially our earliest 
ones, are mostly to its members, so that their perform- 
ance gives us our chief moral training, as well as 
exercise. 

Love and kindness, we have seen, are the principal 
of these duties, as they are the principal of our privi- 
leges, a tender family feeling being the best security 
for all family duties; so that, when this actuates us, 
all else will be done. The love of each usually impels 
him to do more than the wants of the others require; 
so that a good father, husband or child performs his 
duties as a pleasure, rather than as an obligation. 

The members of a family, however, being much 
together, are liable, in a long life, to have differences, 
which, if unguarded, lead to alienation. Quarrels in a 
family should be as carefully averted as war in a State. 
And the assailant of the family, especially the seducer, 
should be treated as severely as the assassin of the 
State. His crime, which is the greatest possible 
against the family, is high treason against the em- 
bryo State. 



CHAPTER FIFTH. 

PUBLIC DUTIES. 



PKINCIPLES. 

1. — IK GENERAL. 

The State, we have seen, is a large family, or com- 
bination of families, and the world entire a combina- 
tion of States; so that family duties are enlarged 
to public duties. While these are less specific, and 
inspired by more indefinite feelings than family duties, 
they are no less important, since they affect more per- 
sons and involve greater interests — war, oppression, 
corruption, and other national and international mat- 
ters. We live a world life, as well as a family and 
individual life; and, as some of our actions extend to 
all men, we must consider what is best for the whole, 
and take up duties as statesmen, or ruling members of 
a larger family. 

For, hard as it is for the members of a family to get 
along together, who are but few, it is harder for the 
whole of mankind to do so, with their more varied and 

137 



138 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

clashing interests, and their greater variety of char- 
acters. But as the family, by a close and tender love, 
are held together, and, by a recognition of mutual 
duties, forbear and help one another, so the people in 
their public capacity, by a cultivation of love for man- 
kind, and by espousing certain political principles 
which express that love, can be similarly cemented. 

These public feelings and principles, which are 
more intellectual than emotional (as the passions 
accompanying them are more indefinite), enter into 
speculation and literature, and become the subject of 
our intellectual life. For men discuss with intense 
interest such matters as popular rights, education, and 
the future of the world; whereas family matters are 
kept for private consideration; so that the higher life 
of man is lived on mankind as a whole — its hopes 
and interests. 

Of the general principles whose observance is thus 
necessary in order that men may live together in States 
and prosper as a whole, the most fundamental are 
equality and liberty, whose espousal as theories ex- 
cites the enthusiasm necessary to unite and impel men 
in these great world movements. These we shall 
briefly consider. 

2.— EQUALITY. 

The first and most important of these is equality, 
which, in a general sense, involves them all, since it is 



EQUALITY. 139 

simply justice. The recognition of all men as equal, or 
as having the same rights, is the foundation of justice 
in the State ; and all the political virtues grow out 
of it. 

Men are not, indeed, by nature equal. Some are 
stronger and healthier than others ; some are more 
intellectual ; some are born to more wealth ; some have 
received a better education. Yet these differences are 
not proper subjects for political discrimination. The 
weak, the sick and the poor have the same interest as 
the fortunate in voting, holding office, and using the 
mails. The government should, accordingly, ignore 
men's natural inequalities in making laws — -should 
confer no titles, recognize no rank, and notice no 
religious differences. All should be allowed simply 
an equal chance, and be scrupulously protected in it. 

And, to conform to this attitude of the government, 
we should, as individuals, recognize and practice 
equality, never taking our pride out of others' inferior- 
ity, or our humility out of their superiority. Instead 
of a changing behavior toward the poor, the rich and 
the official, we should show the same politeness and 
kindness to all, caring more to preserve this equality 
than to learn the etiquette of the "classes." It should 
be part of our own self -respec c to treat all as simply 
men, and recognize none as eitner better or worse than 
<?**rselves. 



140 THE VIBTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

Avoiding sycophancy and subserviency, therefore, 
and expecting them of none, we should do to others 
simply as we would have them do to us, and demand 
only what we yield. Bowing to none as superiors, we 
should allow none as inferiors to bow to us. A bow of 
politeness, as to an equal, or of friendship, is from a 
different principle, as also an act of deference or ser- 
vice to the suffering, which is only kindness. While we 
should help abundantly, it should be as dealing with 
our kind, and not with inferiors ; and we should 
neither give nor expect as if any difference existed be- 
tween us. 

If the spirit of equality is not maintained there is 
no sense of justice left; and a wrong submitted to pre- 
pares for a wrong to be done. He who does not know 
his own rights will not recognize his duties. One 
who has the ignominy to be a slave has the injustice 
to be a master, submission always leading to tyranny. 
Our own rights and those of others go together, the 
recognition of one not being possible without that of 
the other, or the assertion of one without that of its 
correlative ; so that our own self-respect is necessary 
for our proper treatment of our fellows. 

3. — LIBERTY. 
(1.) In General. 
A great problem in politics is how, in the close de- 
pendencies required for society, we can preserve 



LIBERTY. 141 

liberty. Since we must so largely act with reference 
to others, how can we so manage as to act as we 
please? If all were just, and intelligently respected 
each others' equality, there would be little desire to 
act otherwise than according to the general good; so 
that restraint would have to be imposed on none. But 
as this is not the case, we must all submit to many 
concessions as the price of our association with all 
kinds of people. 

As far as we only are concerned — in our opinions 
and private conduct — we should be left entirely free, 
and also in as far as our freedom will comport with the 
same freedom in all others. "When our individual 
rights, however, conflict with those of our neighbors, 
both we and they must submit to mutual limitations. 
Of these limitations, however, equality should be the 
principle. While as much freedom for each should be 
demanded as all may have, all should willingly sur- 
render the rest for the benefit of one another, nobody 
asking others to submit to what he himself is not 
willing to submit to. 

But beyond this we should not compel others to 
yield anything even for the public good. The best 
society requires no restraint on the good man. The 
necessary burdens of government are small, so that the 
proper intercourse of men requires no concessions that 
may not be made with pleasure, as the spontaneous 



142 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

impulse of the love felt toward mankind. Only the 
vicious need feel restraint under a good government, 
or those who want to do what would be injurious to 
somebody, for whom, of course, there can be no 
liberty. When others, therefore, feel restraint, there 
is some encroachment by the government on the 
liberties of the people. 

As nearly all oppression, however, comes from lim- 
itations claimed to be for the general good, and urged 
by some class in its own interest, we should avoid not 
only special legislation, but more legislation than is 
necessary. The least government is the best govern- 
ment, and the less people feel they are governed the 
better they are governed. 

Laws can not help men much, and should aim only 
to let them have equal chances to help themselves. 
The province of government is properly limited to se- 
curing us our rights in the necessary contact of men 
with men, and does not extend to giving us help. 
While the government protects us when plowing, it 
does not plow for us; and while it awards us our 
money (when claimed by others), it does not make 
our money for us. We should expect nothing of the 
authorities but to let us alone, and compel others to 
do so. 

A free people quickly develops into a great people, 
since its powers are unrestrained. It becomes intelli- 



TOLERANCE. 143 

gent, since no repression is put upon the mind. It is 
more apt to be virtuous, since morality is made a pri- 
vate charge. A greater variety of inventions, indus- 
tries and institutions is stimulated, since each has a 
chance to work out his ideas. And so, in general, 
liberty tends to uplift the State, as also the individual, 
and to promote aggrandizement and security. 

For, against a free State there is little liability to 
revolt; because men, having their rights, have nothing 
for which to antagonize the government. The unrea- 
sonable who are discontented must be few, since reason 
is so much alike in all that a good State is generally 
approved by its subjects ; so that exceptional insub- 
ordination may be easily checked. In short, liberty is 
best for the State as for the people, and for the rulers 
as for the ruled, who, not being distinct classes, should 
exchange places often in order to appreciate all their 
duties. 

(2) — Tolerance, 

We should learn, as part of liberty, tolerance for 
those who differ from us. We require it of others, 
since we differ from all ; and it lies at the basis of the 
mutual concessions necessary for society. The more 
intelligent men are the more they differ, since they 
develop greater individuality; so that the better the 
people the greater the amount of tolerance necessary. 



144 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

The problem of the State is, how differing men may- 
get along together, and not how agreeing ones may- 
do so. 

We should learn to see differences and not be 
offended. Men who have thought much, and so been 
over the dark paths where others must tread, are gen- 
erally tolerant, because they know the difficulty of 
forming right opinions, and especially of many people 
forming the same opinions. 

We should even learn to see others working against 
us without being offended. If they do not agree with 
us, we can not expect them to co-operate with us. 
Hence to tolerate antagonism becomes a virtue — 
political patience. We should learn to do all we can 
to promote our ends, without preventing others from 
doing likewise, which is simply equality. 

Practicing tolerance as individuals, we should not 
encourage intolerance in our party; but, instead of 
trying to force men into agreement, should learn to 
live harmoniously with them as different. We should 
as jealously defend freedom in others as in ourselves, 
and see that they are not unjustly dealt with in our 
interest, any more than against it. The liberty of our 
opponent may be as important to us as is our own lib- 
erty; and we should always concede to all what we 
ask for ourselves, and even insist that they have it 
when our partisans would withhold it. We may soon 



PERSECUTION. 145 

want the precedent of this justice to secure our own 
rights. 

Let each one, then, think as he pleases, speak as he 
pleases, and act as he pleases; and encourage him in 
so doing, since it is only an encouragement to honesty ; 
and you may want him to be honest in your interest 
before you are through with him. 

To grudge one his rights is as mean as to grudge 
him his money or his happiness ; so that intolerance is 
a vice akin to envy. One who values his own peace of 
mind must learn not to be disturbed by the differences 
of his antagonist. Displeasure at another's opinion is 
like displeasure at his wealth. If you can be pleased 
only with your own, you are necessarily unhappy. 

Charity, like sympathy, should go to whatever be- 
longs to another; and an honest opinion, like an 
honest dollar, should elicit respect. We should 
demand no more for our views than for our property 
rights, but remember that the like rights of others are 
part of the same system which makes ours possible. 

(3) — Persecution. 

Persecution is the child of intolerance, and its 
natural expression. It is intolerance put in action, or 
grven effect. There is little of the old-time persecu- 
tion now for religious or political differences ; but men 
may say and print about what they please. We have, 
10 



146 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

accordingly, every variety of political and religious 
agitation, so that one must learn to get along compla- 
cently with great differences. 

The best cure for what is bad is to let it alone, to 
die from its lack of sense. Persecution makes mar- 
tyrs ; and martyrs, whether for a good or bad cause, 
become the seed of the movement for which they die. 
All suffering attracts sympathy ; and persecution 
should be the last weapon taken up by the govern- 
ment. When we allow the greatest liberty to all 
causes, the most just has the best chance to prevail. 
Persecution commonly proceeds from those who are 
not very confident that they are right, and so is gen • 
erally the weapon of wrong. 

(4) — Strikes. 

But while there is no religious or political persecu^ 
tion, there is occasional industrial persecution. The 
government having ceased to persecute, the people, in 
their business capacity, sometimes seize this weapon 
against their competitors. The mob, or union of 
workmen (or of other classes), may thus become 
oppressors ; for tyranny is not the vice of the great 
alone. 

While it is a part of men's freedom to be privileged 
to strike, and only a question of conscience whether 
they have sufficient cause to incur the waste of idle- 



ANARCHISM. 147 

ness, it is a crime against freedom to compel others 
to do so. As long as strikers keep to argument, 
and abstain from violence, they are within their 
rights ; for it is the privilege of workmen, as of others, 
to act in concert. But it is implied in their rights that 
they allow others the same privilege. To compel men 
to quit work who are desirous of working, or to forci- 
bly hinder them unless working on the terms dictated 
by their associates, is to fly in the face of liberty, and 
to commit other crimes besides. 

No man's liberty includes the right to destroy 
another's liberty. In being free to do as you please, 
you are not free to compel others to do as you please. 
While the workingman may follow his inclination, he 
should let the capitalist do so, and also his fellow- 
workman. To act differently is to invoke tyranny. 

We must learn, if we are to get along well together, 
to respect others' rights as much when they antag- 
onize, as when they co-operate with, us; and all inter- 
ference, whether by fellow-workmen or by others, with 
one's personal liberty, should be treated as criminal, if 
we are to have any society at all. 

(5) — Anarchism. 

All agitation should be within the laws. In a free 
government there is always a remedy for wrongs. The 
laws provide for their own correction by periodically 



148 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

taking the will of the people and embodying it as the 
government. If it is not what any persons want, they 
have the privilege of arguing till they change it, or 
learn that it can not be changed. As the government 
always expresses what the majority think best, its 
action should be final. For one to resist, or for a 
minority to resist, is to declare that the people may 
not do as they please, and so to assail their liberty; 
for there is no other form of exercising liberty than 
the rule of the majority. To attempt changes of opin- 
ion by force, is for the few to try to conquer the many, 
which is as foolish as it is unjust. 

To destroy all government would be to reduce men 
to savages, where each, like a wild beast, would live 
for himself. To reduce things to chaos, with the view 
of rebuilding society entirely new, would be the 
extreme of unreason, since society is the result of gen- 
erations of growth and attainments in the arts and 
virtues. 

Such new society, made to order out of nothing, 
might, indeed, be easily attempted, as an experiment, 
in the islands of the Pacific or other savage countries, 
where there are now no laws, and so the necessary 
anarchy to begin with, and where there is also plenty 
of land which might be held in common without first 
taking it from individual possessors; but none have 
sincerity enough in the theory to attempt its practice. 



SOCIALISM. 149 



(6) — Socialism. 



The organization of men in socialistic communities, 
in whicn all property shall be held in common, is like- 
wise irrational as a theory and impractical as a policy. 
Wherever it has been attempted it has quickly failed; 
and the attempts have been so many and varied as to 
have about exhausted the possibilities. Men's 
opinions, tastes and preferences are too diverse for 
such close dependence; and it is not desirable (even 
if it were practicable) to so destroy their individuality 
as to make them sufficiently alike. If two families 
can hardly get along in the same house, many millions 
must quarrel when in similarly close connections. 

Communism is the extinction of liberty. To have 
the officers of a community determine when we shall 
work, and at what, when we may take a journey, and 
how we shall be educated, together with the countless 
othei details that would have to be surrendered to the 
managers, would be tolerable to no free man. Our 
liberty to go and do as we please, to spend our earn- 
ings or hoard them, and to exercise the other rights 
which we have in our present system, are among the 
greatest privileges we have, and will never be will- 
ingly surrendered. Those who contemplate socialistic 
schemes should take into account these obstacles 
arising from the love of liberty itself. 



150 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

Whether more or fewer interests may be taken in 
charge by the government, as telegraphs, railroads, 
insurance, or lands, is a question simply of the exteni 
of the powers of government. At present the govern- 
ment operates the post-offices and some other general 
interests ; and a few more would make little difference 
in principle. 

In general, however, private individuals conduct 
business better than the government. A store house 
invariably costs less than a court house. No class is 
so proverbially corrupt, extravagant or inefficient as 
public employees. Not having the personal interest, 
they can not feel the responsibility of private individ- 
uals ; so that we do not want more of them than we 
must have. The least government, as we have said, is 
the best government; and the more government we 
have the less liberty remains. A forced equality, at 
the expense of liberty, would yield no advantage what- 
ever, but only exhaust the people in perpetual broils. 



PATRIOTISM. 151 

n. 

PATEIOTISM. 

Love of country is not a narrowing of general love, 
but an application of it. The love of all does not con- 
flict with the love of a part ; but love for whoever we 
think about, or come in contact with, being the state 
of the loving soul, our country and countrymen, who 
necessarily engage much of our attention, come in for 
much of our love. And while we have duties to all, 
corresponding to our universal love, we have special 
duties to those with whom we have special relations. 
As we have, therefore, duties to parents and friends, 
corresponding to our love for them, we have duties to 
a State and its citizens. 

All men belonging to a nation are engaged in a 
common enterprise. They derive many of their privi- 
leges and possessions from this enterprise — their land 
and its titles, their protection, use of streets, etc. ; and 
they have their hopes for posterity and for the world's 
progress in it. This interest is a species of wealth, 
whence the State is called "the commonwealth," or 
interest which all have in common ; and having this 
interest, and deriving such benefits from the State, 
men have corresponding duties — to defend and 
promote it. 



152 THE VIBTUES AND THEIR REASONS, 

Hence we should not only love our country, but act 
out that love in all needed work and sacrifice. In a 
conflict with others we should espouse its cause as a 
special obligation. For it is not then a question 
merely of which side is right, or of discretion for us 
as disinterested parties, but of fidelity to special 
trusts. As we are united with our fellow-citizens in a 
sort of partnership, we are bound to stand by them 
and work with them, like partners in business or mem- 
bers of a family; for the people of a State are nearly 
related, as well as associated (being generally of the 
same race, and having strong resemblances). 

To refuse, therefore, to participate in the defense 
of this common cause, or to share its burdens, is to 
break the contract, express or implied, into which 
every one has entered as a citizen. For these duties 
go with the very existence of a nation; and one who 
does not perform them makes no return for what he 
gets from the State, but is a sponger on the rest. Like 
an indolent or treacherous member of the family, he 
forfeits his rights in the society which depends on the 
performance of such duties. 



TAXES. 153 

III. 

SPECIAL DUTIE& 

1. — TAXES. 

Of our special duties, in bearing the burdens of the 
State, the most common is tax-paying. This we need 
not generally enforce from moral considerations, as it 
is enforced by the State itself. But, by giving attention 
to the government's wants, so as to see that the taxes 
are properly levied and expended, we can often pay 
them more cheerfully. If men performed their other 
public duties, they would not have to complain so 
much of their taxes. 

As it is expensive to conduct a government, it is 
dishonest to evade the cost, whether by false assess- 
ments, smuggling, or otherwise ; and the fact that the 
State undertakes to enforce our duty does not absolve 
us from its performance. 

Taxes are duties which we owe to our fellow-citi- 
zens as well as to the government ; and our exemption 
puts, by so much, a greater burden on them. For 
what we do not pay others must ; and in having our 
taxes paid by them we are the recipients of charity, if, 
indeed, we are not thieves. Cheating the government 
is simply cheating all the people instead of one; so 
that by evading a tax we rob many at once. 



154 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

It is important to learn to do our duty when it is 
minutely divided, and many are charged with the same 
obligation. When each has but little to do, the whole 
is apt to escape through the meshes of the public con- 
science. Duty must be executed frequently in concert 
as well as music, and on its proper performance 
depends as great a matter as the harmony of the State. 
And when each neglects his part, the whole is not 
done by all. 

The fact that we may not think a tax just (and 
persons are apt to think their taxes unjust), is no 
excuse for its evasion. It must be paid by somebody, 
and the wrong of evasion is done to such person. It 
is our duty to obey the laws while we have them, and 
to pay assessments while we get the benefits; and, 
if we do not like the laws, we should remedy them by 
new legislation, and not by violation. 

2. — JURY DUTY. 

One of our duties is to serve as jurymen in settling 
disputes between citizens. It is a part of our general 
duty to act in any capacity to which we may be chosen 
in the public behalf ; but as nearly all other offices are 
gladly filled, on account of their emoluments, this 
remains unique in its inadequacy of compensation and 
interruption to private business. There is the more 
reason, therefore, to fill it as a duty, since it can not 



MILITAKY DUTY. 155 

be done as an honor, or for the profit; as we must 
also fill the role of witness, and a few other minor 
positions. 

This is a sacrifice of time and convenience that all 
must make for one another, since we hold all our 
rights subject to calls upon us for service. The courts, 
with their juries and witnesses, are the instruments 
for securing our rights; and, however unpleasant it 
may be to pronounce judgment against our fellows, 
condemning them to loss of property, liberty, and even 
life, it is a duty which the very existence of society 
imposes, and which the security of all renders impera- 
tive on each. Whether we have justice well adminis- 
tered depends not only on the integrity of the officials, 
but on the faithfulness of the citizens as jurors, wit- 
nesses and upholders of the court. For it is the whole 
people who try causes; and private individuals, resum- 
ing their original authority, must occasionally take 
part in person as well as by representatives. 

(3) — MILITARY DUTY. 

In time of war we owe our life to the country. 
When the vast interests of society are imperilled by 
violence, which can be met only by violence, we must 
defend them at every private risk. This we owe to 
others, as well as to ourselves, since the interests of all 
are jeopardized together; so that, as i*o other defense 



156 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

than common warfare is possible, the duties of all are 
bound together in it, as their interests are. If our 
own welfare only were involved, we might, indeed, use 
our discretion as to whether we should surrender it 
rather than fight ; but we can not so decide our neigh- 
bors' fate; and the call to arms is a call to our duty 
to them, and not something that we can settle for 
ourselves. 

It is not a question for the individual, therefore, 
whether a war is just, since any coward would likely 
decide that in the negative when called upon to fight, 
but for all the people, who must settle this question 
together, just as they must fight together, and just as 
they are interested together; and, as the only expres- 
sion by the people as a whole is through their officials, 
we must follow their decision in war. Our time to 
decide is at the polls, and in the creation of public 
sentiment; but when the decision of all is rendered, 
whether by the ballot or by the officers chosen thereby, 
we have only to acquiesce, since in a nation we cannot 
pursue individual policies. 

War being the greatest public evil, we should do 
everything for peace. Remembering the inevitable 
differences of opinion, and our own liability to err, we 
ought to yield much and delay long before fighting. 
The responsibility for peace is one of the greatest in 
life, and he who is faithless therein is chargeable with 



PUBLIC EDUCATION. 157 

the lives of the slain. Avoidable war is a crime in 
which many are the criminals. Wars undertaken for 
oppression or gain add to the crime of tyranny or rob- 
bery, that of murder, and multiply the crimes by the 
number of losses and deaths. In an unjust war a 
whole people become criminals. 

But while we should do everything honorable for 
peace, we should, when war becomes inevitable, do 
everything for victory, righting as hard as we before 
reasoned, and esteeming our military duties the great 
moral code of the hour. For it is then a question, not 
of what we owe our enemies, but of what we owe our 
fellow-countrymen. 

(4) _ PUBLIC EDUCATION. 

One of our duties to the State is to educate; and 
this education should be not only of ourselves, but of 
others. Intelligence is necessary for a free govern- 
ment, so that ignorance remains a national menace. 
Men must know their rights so as to maintain them, 
and to not demand more than their rights. The 
ignorant are liable, on the one hand, to be oppressed 
by tyrants, and on the other to be led into extrava- 
gances by demagogues. For self-rule there must be 
self-culture; and there should be intelligence enough 
in the masses to lead themselves and not be led. 

Ignorance is the principal cause of crime, as well 



158 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

as of misrule. The untrained person is not likely to 
have his morals developed, any more than his intelli- 
gence. With a good education one can do not only his 
private but his public work better, and so be in a con- 
dition to be ruled as well as to rule. 

While men should be allowed to educate themselves 
and their families as they deem best, so that private 
schools should be encouraged, the State should see 
that all the people have a chance to be educated, and, 
if need be, should compel them to be educated. Public 
schools must be established to give the chance to all, 
and especially to those who can not, from poverty, 
distance, or other obstacle, patronize the private 
schools. 

These public schools should be adapted to the 
wants of all the people, and, to this end, should be 
unpartisan and unsectarian. Where so much differ- 
ence of opinion exists, subjects of irritation should be 
avoided, which is easily done, since there are abundant 
subjects on which all men agree, and which constitute 
nearly all elementary education — spelling, reading, 
writing, arithmetic, grammar, drawing, music, etc. 

The public schools may be supplemented by private 
academies, colleges and universities, by Sunday schools, 
churches and family training, by polytechnic and pro- 
fessional schools, by apprenticeships, training acade- 



VOTING. 159 

mies, etc., so that the education given by the State 
need not be exhaustive. 

But for the early years, when youths can not take 
care of themselves, and when they have, perhaps, 
ignorant, poor, or vicious parents, who can not give 
them an adequate start in life, it is the duty of the 
State to provide an elementary training, and of the 
citizens to contribute to it, in taxes and otherwise, with 
cheerfulness and public spirit. 

5.— VOTING. 

(1) — In General. 

A principal duty of the citizen is voting, which is 
the only act of sovereignty in the United States, where 
all authority proceeds from the power granted at the 
polls. Men express, in voting, their opinions and 
desires, and the result indicates popular sentiment as 
nearly as it can be obtained. It being our duty to 
interest ourselves in public affairs, we vote as the 
most natural expression of this interest, and so as the 
outlet of a duty. 

"We owe it to all the people to vote: first, because 
it is a duty which, if neglected by us, will not be done 
at all (or will impose unjustly a responsibility on 
others) ; secondly, because the habit of voting induces 
a study of the issues and candidates, which forestalls 
government by default or hazard ; and, thirdly, because 



160 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

when any class have once studied the public questions 
the people are entitled to their judgment as an offset 
to the ignorant and corrupt voters. Of all affairs, 
those of the State least go of themselves; and when 
intelligence neglects the polls, chance runs them. 

That there are so many unfit voters is not the fault 
of such voters, but of those who, by abstention, allow 
them a disproportionate voice at the polls; and the 
remedy is not the inactivity of the less qualified 
(whose interest is itself educatory), but the greater 
activity of the others. 

The remedy often proposed for the excessive vote 
of ignorance, namely, the restriction of the ballot to 
wealth and intelligence, is suicidal; since it proposes 
to take the ballot from those who perform their polit- 
ical duty, and to give it exclusively to those who 
neglect it. The failure of the " better " citizen to per- 
form his duty is no fault in the "worse" one for 
performing his. 

It is our duty to vote for the best men and the best 
measures; and, if we have no opinion on these, it is 
our duty to have an opinion. Every man owes it to 
his country to know enough to vote, and, to this end, 
to examine sufficiently the candidates and issues to 
form an intelligent judgment. One who votes against 
his conviction betrays his country ; while one who sells 
his vote commits a like crime with one who sells his 



PARTY. 161 

evidence or his verdict, and is similarly punished for 
bribery. 

(2)— Party. 

The most common disturbance of candid voting is 
by party spirit. Passion, prejudice and ignorance so 
control the confirmed partisans that their votes are 
lost, so far as any wisdom is concerned. 

There is a legitimate place, however, for party. 
Since people differ, and form combinations according 
to their agreements (so that the political organizations 
generally represent distinct interests), it is important 
to act with those that express our convictions. We 
must even support at times inferior men in order to 
attain great general ends. Where it is a question 
between the best policy and the best men, we must 
decide as in other cases of conflicting considerations. 
If our party represents our principles, we are under 
the same obligation to follow it that we are in other 
respects to follow our best judgment; and if it does 
not, we have no right to be partisan at all. 

But while to abandon party is often to abandon 
principle, yet, when no difference of principle is 
involved, as in local elections, but only honesty, 
economy, or some particular measure (as the construc- 
tion of a bridge), it is a misuse of party to be parti- 
san. We should show the same judgment in following 



162 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

a party as in choosing a party in the first place. Jttem 
should, no matter what their political relations, be 
always independent, and never abandon their judg- 
ment in their fealty; since the illiberal partisan can 
not appreciate even the principles of his own party. 
Only as one's party aims at the welfare of his country 
should .he be a partisan, which is nothing more than 
being a patriot; but when he abandons his country's 
interests for those of his party, he becomes a traitor; 
and his treason is no less because he sells out to a 
domestic, instead of a foreign, foe. 

(3) — Election Frauds. 

The purity of the ballot is of the first importance 
to a nation, since when the ballot does not express the 
popular will, there is no government by the people. 
The country is then ruled by chance, or, what is 
worse, by its criminals — those who commit the 
frauds. 

The danger of such chaos rule is in the fact that 
there is no remedy for our wrongs under it. As long 
as we can express our will at the polls we can correct 
any abuse ; but when we are denied such expression, 
or the vote as counted does not declare it, we are 
simply helpless, with no remedy but revolution. One 
who gets charge of the elections, and can, by fraud, 
make them express what he pleases, is simply an irre- 



ELECTION FKAUDS. 163 

sponsible ruler, and the people whose rights are taken 
away are invited to resistance as against a despot. 

In a republic, where the appeal is periodically to 
the people, who can make any changes they de- 
sire, both in the laws and officials, there is no justifi- 
cation of violence, no matter how badly the rulers act ; 
for, as their misgovernment brings unpopularity, which 
usually sweeps them from power, the system corrects 
its own defects. But when the election itself is unfair, 
and the result, instead of expressing, r.everses the 
popular will, there is no possibility of such lawful 
correction; and the only remedy, as we have said, is 
revolution; so that whenever the people generally be- 
lieve they have no way of asserting their will, they 
will naturally revolt. When any class takes possession 
of the government by force, force alone can resist 
it ; and fraud is simply a form of force with decep- 
tion added. 

Those who cheat at elections should, therefore, be 
deemed the nation's enemies, since they not only de- 
prive us of free government, but threaten the existence 
of the government itself. If they become numerous, 
they are liable to get beyond control. For, though a 
few frauds may be powerless, as only the acts of indi- 
vidual criminals, yet when they are sufficient to change 
the result in a general election, or are thought to do 



164 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

so, they become revolutionary, and invite counter revo- 
lution; so that their logical effect is anarchy. 

He who defrauds at election stabs the nation, ot 
strikes all the people at one blow. It is as much trea- 
son against the sovereign as is any act against the 
king in royal countries. 

(4) — Intimidation. 

The forms of these crimes against the government 
are becoming as numerous as the forms of crimes 
against individuals — impersonation, repeating, ballot- 
box stuffing, intimidation, etc. As long as only cam- 
paign stories, misleading tickets, and like forms of 
deceit are indulged, to induce men to vote against 
their wishes, the offense is less serious; since every- 
body is supposed to use his intelligence in voting, as 
in transacting business, and he has a chance, by watch- 
fulness, of avoiding deception. But when one is 
frightened from the polls, or the ballots cast are tam- 
pered with, the crime transcends that of mere personal 
immorality, and becomes a public wrong, with the 
dangers mentioned. 

Violence especially is serious, since it tends to turn 
our system into a reign of terror; and this is so 
whether it takes the form of intimidating the weak 
and ignorant, as the colored people, or of mob out- 
rages in large cities. Neither public sentiment nor 



SUBMISSION TO AUTHOBITY. 165 

the administration of law should show it any tolerance. 
It is safer to be severe against the outlaws than to 
risk the results of their practices. A republic is not 
safe in which election criminals are safe; and if the 
frauds are deemed respectable, they are doubly dan- 
gerous, since the public then become participants by 
their condonation — accessory after the act. 

(6) — Submission to Authority. 

When the people have once spoken, and the result of 
an election is declared, it becomes the supreme duty of 
all to acquiesce. We must often do so when unfit per- 
sons (in our opinion) and unwise measures are chosen, 
and even when frauds have been perpetrated. Not 
every fraud justifies resistance or revolution. Many 
may be committed without affecting the general result. 
But even when they are material there is much reason 
for patience. We have legal remedies for counteract- 
ing them, when they can be proven (and when they 
can not they are not subjects for action), and resort 
should be had to courts instead of clubs. When the 
courts have finally spoken, we have nothing to do but 
submit, which we should do with cheerfulness, unless 
no likelihood remains of again having a fair election, 
which is the only just ground for revolution; for in 
such condition we have no republic to overthrow, but 
only a lawless tyranny. 



166 THE YIKTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

To rush readily, however, into revolution, as in 
Mexico and South America, is to imperil all on a 
small issue. In a great country we must learn to 
respect the courts, and put confidence in officials, as 
well as in the people, and not assume either that there 
has been fraud, or that it will not be remedied at the 
next election. It is part of our right to vote to sub- 
mit to the declared result; for the franchise becomes 
valuable only by the acquiescence of the people in it. 
We should learn to be active before election, and quiet 
after it; doing all we can while argument will avail, 
and dropping the subject till the next campaign when 
we have been defeated. 

(7) — Rioting. 

Little is to be gained by violence. Mobs, not 
being controlled by reason, rarely accomplish what 
they want, if, indeed, they have any definite purpose, 
but usually spend their time afterward in regretting 
their failures, — and equally their successes. They 
can do more damage in an hour of unreason than they 
can repair in weeks of rational work, and hence are 
their own worst enemies. They are an agglomeration 
of the passions of men without their reason, and con- 
sequently a combination of many crimes. 

Rioting should be treated severely, as also incite- 
ments to riot. A riot is a declaration of war against 



COSMOPOLITANISM. 1 67 

the country. Its only treatment is prevention, since 
once under way it is not responsive to reason. Inflam- 
matory speeches, which are often deemed the privilege 
of freedom, are specially dangerous in a republic, and 
less excusable than in a monarchy, because they are 
crimes against the people. There is no justification 
of violence in a land where all men are equal, and 
where the officials are of their own choice. To resort 
to force is to attack the laws which we ourselves have 
made, and so to resist our own commands. To set up 
laws in our authorities, and then knock them down in 
riots, is political suicide, of which democracies should, 
least of all, be capable. 



IY. 
COSMOPOLITANISM. 

Our public duties should not be confined to our 
country, any more than our feelings should be. We 
owe something to all mankind, and should live a world 
morality. Recognizing all men as related to us, we 
should perform the duties of such relationship; so 
that parallel with universal love should go universal 
justice. 

While we should, accordingly, seek our country's 
good, like the good of our family and of ourselves, it 



168 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

should not be at the expense of other countries, but in 
connection with them as having like interests with 
ours. As we can learn our own rights only in learn- 
ing those of others, so we can enforce them only by 
the like enforcement of theirs. For all rights, national 
and personal, are held in a system together, and grow 
out of one set of interests which are mutually recon- 
cilable and reciprocally supporting. 

A narrow cosmopolitan can not be a liberal patriot. 
We can love our own country better by loving other 
countries, just as we can understand it better by hav- 
ing some acquaintance with them ; so that, as we owe 
much to other nations, as well as to our own, we 
should, in preparing for our national duties, prepare 
for our international ones also. We should do to 
other States as we would have them do to us, and not 
think that what is wrong toward us is right toward 
them. Our sense of duty should be extended to all 
mankind, and morals be made cosmopolitan, universal 
reciprocity being the highest law of ethics. 

While patriotism should accordingly specialize our 
love, it should not limit it, but leave it all for other 
applications also; since love does not, like mortar, 
become thinner by being spread out, but, like an ava- 
lanche, grows greater by moving farther. We should 
be lovers of the world, as well as of our country, 
always loving the greatest thing we know, and 



CARE FOR POSTERITY. 169 

expanding our feelings as wide as our knowledge 
extends. 

And as the highest love is thus without limitation, 
embracing all men, so is our highest duty; and when 
our thoughts and feelings rise to consider the uni- 
versal, our activity should so follow them that when 
all men are under consideration, they shall be treated 
with universal justice. For we sometimes touch the 
whole race in our conduct, when it should be with 
morality, and not to their disadvantage, so that our 
beneficence may reach as wide as our knowledge and 
our love. 



CAEE FOE POSTEEITY. 

While we should especially love this age, and per- 
form our duties to it, as to our country, we should 
also look to the future. Men ought to go out in their 
love in time as well as in space, and comprehend 
all men that can come within their thoughts. We 
owe something to the unborn, as well as to the 
unknown; and as we go beyond our nation we should 
go beyond our time. 

Nearly all great works run through many genera- 
tions, if not in their performance in their results, and 



170 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

most that we do for others must be done for future 
ones. Charity goes ahead of life, as well as away 
from home ; and as our greatest love reaches to posterity, 
our duties should go out to them also. He who con- 
fines his duties to the present, like him who confines 
them to self, has a narrow horizon, and engages in but 
small work. 

There is some compensation in care for posterity, 
since posterity gets our fame, and will treat our memo- 
ries as we have treated its hopes. The man who 
looks forward will be looked back to; and the prophet 
is the man of honor in future times, as well as in for- 
eign countries. The founders of States and religions, 
the patriots and soldiers, the inventors and explorers, 
the poets and artists, all look much to the future, and 
work for far-off results; and they are remembered by 
that future, to which they have given legacies. 

We should always care more for our country's 
future than its past, and for our family's. The world 
that is yet to be contains our chief interest ; and while 
we should bury the dead, we should live for the 
unborn. 



PART SECOND. 

DUTIES BEGAEDING SELF CHIEFLY. 



CHAPTER SIXTH. 

SELF- DEVELOPMENT. 



I. 

EDUCATION. 

1. — IJST GENERAL. 

We have thus far treated of Duties Regarding 
Others Chiefly. In Part Second we shall treat of 
Duties Regarding Self Chiefly. 

These are not merely duties to self, or what we 
owe to ourselves. They may affect our fellows quite 
as much, just as the others affect us also. Our train- 
ing, for example, qualifies us to serve others as well as 
ourselves, just as our honesty, which contemplates 
others chiefly, is usually profitable also to us. This 
second class of duties, like all duty, is simply for the 
benefit of all, ourselves included. We have no duties 
to self which conflict with duties to others ; but duty 
is always self -reconcilable. 

The duties contemplating mainly self may be 

classed under the following heads: 

I. Self -Development. 

II. Industry. 

173 



174 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

III. Self-Support. 

IY. Self-Control. 

V. Temperance. 

VI. Self-Respect. 

VII. Purity. 

VIII. Con scientiousness. 

Self-development is the bringing out of our possi- 
bilities, thereby qualifying ourselves for what we have 
to do and be. Few become what they might be, the 
bulk of men's powers being wasted, or left to perish 
in the germ. To bring them into play is the work of 
education, which is the making of the man. If left to 
grow, like a tree, without direction, man becomes 
weak and purposeless. Especially in the complicated 
society of civilization does one need much training for 
his duties, which are mostly conventional. He will 
no more fill his place without it, than a prairie will 
spontaneously grow to a wheat field. 

Education is intellectual, physical, moral, and 
industrial, and looks to making the most of the man, 
with the ulterior view of his doing most for oth- 
ers. The first three kinds of education are for all. 
In the fourth, or industrial education, we specialize; 
and though all men should be educated for some par- 
ticular work in life, they part at this point, and vary 
their training according to their talents and intended 
pursuits. We speak now of education in general. 



1 



EDUCATION. 175 

It is our obvious duty to make the best of our- 
selves, and to do the best with ourselves. Education 
becomes a duty, since it does not do itself. It is the 
result of effort — always prolonged and sometimes 
painful effort. Work put on ourselves is as hard as 
work put on a task. To gather into the mind is as 
difficult as to gather into a barn. 

A third of life is generally spent in coming to 
maturity, which is the educational period. In this 
season we should see that each faculty gets its devel- 
opment, so that we do not grow up without judgment 
or senses. Our members are not all external, and 
education is needed to bring out the internal parts. 
Did we look into men's minds we should see many 
intellectual cripples and deformities, which it is the 
purpose of education to prevent or cure. 

The time in which we can educate is short, and, if 
allowed to pass, can not be retrieved. One can not in 
mature life stop, when he comes to a task, to learn 
how to do it. He must be educated to be ready. 

And not only must one who does not educate him- 
self in youth remain uneducated through life, but if 
he lets the opportunity of one part of youth go he will 
not again get the advantage of that. We usually have 
only one time to do one thing, and if it is not done 
then it will not be done at all ; and though he who 
squanders part of his youth may still be educated in 



176 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

the remaining part, it will be a lame education, want- 
ing something which only that squandered period 
could have furnished. 

The proper using of all our time, and the doing of 
each thing at the right time, is what makes the well 
educated man, as well as the highly successful one; 
and we should aim in education not only to do well, 
but to do the best. 

The educational period is to determine what rank 
we shall take in life — whether high or low, whether 
as strong men or weak, whether as leaders or follow- 
ers, whether as rich or poor, in short, whether as suc- 
cessful or not, and how successful. This is the most 
important matter that a youth has to attend to, and 
his conscience, as well as his efforts, should be cen- 
tered on his education. As it is about all that many 
have to do, unless their school duties are done they 
are remiss generally. 

The ethics of school life should be made a great 
part of every moral system. The virtues of mental 
conduct — of study, attention, inquiry, and retention 
— make up the main moral character of the period; 
and a duty of thought left undone, or the escape of a 
fact from our intelligence, should send a pang to the 
conscience no less than a lie or theft. We should 
early understand the wrong of not knowing a lesson, 
the sin of confounding oxygen and carbon, and the 



PHYSICAL TRAINING. 177 

immorality of fallacies. It is our duty to have a good 
mind well stored, and to make no mistakes in think- 
ing, any more than in willing. 

2.— PHYSICAL TRAINING. 

To think well one must have a healthy body, and 
to think much he must have a strong body. Hence 
the development of the body is necessary for one who 
will do mental work, as well as for one who will do 
physical work ; for when the body gives out the mind 
is practically gone. It is one of the greatest problems 
of life to keep both to old age. What one accom- 
plishes depends quite as much on his health as on his 
talents, and hence health becomes a duty as well as 
education. 

The body, however, in itself is a worthy object of 
culture. We can make nearly as much out of it as out 
of the mind. Most of the occupations require great 
skill in the hand, eye, or other special organ, and 
some of the trades are almost wholly a culture of the 
body. 

In most cases, however, the culture of the body 
goes along with that of the mind. In eloquence, act- 
ing, war, and social intercourse, the man of educated 
physique has many advantages. The body not only 
expresses the mind, but executes its orders; and a 
well-developed body often makes all the difference 



178 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

between a pleasing and a repulsive man, as between a 
practical and an impractical one. A trained body is a 
better agent of the mind, and has a reflex influence on 
the culture of the mind. 

The trades all develop the body according to their 
several specialties; but the literary and public man, 
the lawyer and scientist, the clergyman and diplomat, 
all need good bodies quite as much as the artisan — 
bodies not only healthy, but quick, graceful, strong, 
easy and commanding, which qualities are, in part at 
least, to be obtained by culture. The body should be 
made, if possible, fit for an artist's model — to please, 
to last, and to serve. It may be an impediment to the 
mind, destroying, by its awkwardness or weakness, all 
that thought sends through it; or it may be an aid, 
giving grace and power to the utterances of the 
intellect. 

The duty of bodily exercise, accordingly, which 
develops this culture — the duty of rowing, playing, 
walking, etc. — is an important part of morals; for 
while these, like eating, may be in excess, and so 
injure instead of develop, they are just as necessary 
in moderation. We may take so much play as to 
make it work, and exercise until we become tired 
instead of strong, or we may acq uire such a fondness for 
sports as to absorb all our strength for study; but 
this is the excess or a necessary exercise, and calls for 



HEALTH-KEEPING. 179 

restraint and not prohibition. We should see that we 
have a good body, and take the requisite means to 
acquire it, and to neglect this is to pay for it by fail- 
ures in after life. 

(3) — HEALTH - KEEPING. 

The duty of health is one on which all others in 
part depend. A mind can not be much better than its 
body, and the morals often depart with the loss of 
digestion. It is as much our duty to keep the engine 
in order as to work with it. If the boiler explodes, 
we are at fault as much as if we do wrong with its 
power. We are given ourselves to look after, as well 
as our outward duties ; and to keep ourselves in con- 
dition is necessary for every other duty. The duty 
on which duties depend should never be deemed an 
unimportant one. 

The duty of health-keeping is mainly one of mod- 
eration and direction, and as such we shall treat of it 
hereafter. At present we call attention simply to the 
fact of such a duty. We can labor so as to injure our 
health, as by doing severe work immediately after 
eating, or rest so as to injure our health, as by exces- 
sive sleep. We can eat too much or too little, eat at 
the wrong time, or eat unwholesome food; we can neg- 
lect medical treatment, or take too much medicine. 



180 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

We can, in countless ways, injure our health, which it 
is the province of hygiene to point out. 

Our duty is to give abundant attention to the sub- 
ject, so as to know what to do for our health. Ignor- 
ance does not excuse us on a subject which it is so 
great a duty to study; just as ignorance does not 
exempt us from the ills of indiscretion. We suffer 
alike whether we knowingly or ignorantly violate 
nature's laws; and a part of our duty is to get rid of 
this ignorance. 

Every man should see that his stomach, and liver, 
and teeth, and lungs, are good for fifty years' work, 
and that they keep up with him through life. Many 
are cut off from existence by the stopping of one little 
function, which, like a stubborn mule, arrests the 
whole team, though all the rest are good for a long 
life. The chain of life hangs by many links, the 
weakest of which measures the strength of the whole. 

He who dies by preventible ill-health is guilty of 
homicide; and he who is sick by indiscretion is wrong 
as well as ill. It is a duty to learn to eat, and venti- 
late, and sleep and work, right, to avoid colds as well 
as lies, and prevent toothache as well as theft. When 
we know that green apples will produce colic, we sin, 
as much as did Eve, in eating them. 

Health once ruined remains lost, and we have only 
one chance to keep it. The best that we can do after 



COURAGE. 181 

an indiscretion is to save the rest. He who often 
violates the laws of nature will soon have nothing to 
do but keep himself from dying. Early death is 
usually a sin, whereas long life is proverbially asso- 
ciated with virtue. Nearly every one who dies early 
gets killed. Natural deaths are only by old age. 

We should, therefore, avoid death as wrong, and not 
commit our last sin by dying. But to do this we must 
commence early to live. We can not, by giving death 
a start through our indiscretions, hope to stop it when 
under way. The sin of dying is committed when we 
first break down our health. 

And we should not only avoid death, but avoid 
dying along the way. Ill health is partial death, and 
most sickly hours might be taken out of life for all 
the good they do. We should try to be all alive, and 
alive all the time; and as this is usually within our 
power it becomes our duty. 



II. 
COUBAGE. 



A requisite qualification for success is courage — 
courage to say what we think is true, and to do what 
we think is right. We should never be afraid of our 
opinions, and, to this end, should not have opinions to 



182 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

be afraid of. When sure we are right, we are doubly 
fortified in our position, and can never be made to 
appear ridiculous. "We should make our opinions 
respected, therefore, and not cringe to those we believe 
false. 

Since whenever two men meet there is a superior 
and an inferior, the man of most courage is taken for 
the superior. People respect a courageous man, even 
when differing from him ; and the man who is right 
can always afford to make others give in. If we are 
wrong we should change to the right, that we may 
take on courage; for to hold out when wrong is only 
stubbornness. We should be able to be laughed at 
without embarrassment; and, if courageous in the 
right, we will make the other fellow the one to be 
laughed at. 

While it is not advisable to obtrude our opinions, 
or defend them on needless occasions, it is never nec- 
essary, either for politeness or peace, to deny them, or 
appear to yield them. The man who causes you to 
surrender to him has little respect for you. It is bet- 
ter to be silent when you do not assent, unless you 
care to antagonize. If one sees that you are cour- 
ageous he will surrender, rather than expect you to do 
so. Never seem to hold your opinions subject to 
another's sufferance; and do not change them accord- 
ing to the company you are in. When others are 



COURAGE. 183 

making sport of what you approve, do not join in, or 
allow yourself to seem to do so. Discriminate when 
asked to assent, when you can assent only in 
part. 

In society we should aim to be the influencing 
rather than the influenced, ones. The courageous man 
will be a leader among his companions, and will seem 
the abler one, whether he is or not. Timidity 
follows self-assertion, and vice is bold only to a cow- 
ard. Instead of fearing temptation, we should lead 
the tempters to our side, and be ourselves the persons 
of influence, instead of the others. It is only the 
weaker of two that is tempted; and, instead of being 
ashamed to resist, we should be proud to be formida- 
ble. 

Especially should we show our manhood in saying 
No. It requires often more courage to refuse than to 
fight, and to refuse a polite invitation than a coarse 
demand. We naturally throw off our armor in the 
presence of friends, and are exposed to solicitation when 
we are secure against hostility. It is more painful to 
antagonize feeling than opinion or effort, and espe- 
cially perplexing to oppose kindness and wrong in the 
same person. It is hard to be bold against one who 
does not oppose us, or to fortify against well-meant 
vice. 

In accepting invitations to drink, when we do not 



184 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

want to, and in going with the crowd, when we think it 
wrong, there is neither kindness nor accommodation ; 
and our tempters despise us for following their lead. It 
is never necessary to go wrong in order to be a good 
companion or popular friend. The very lowest like men 
who are better than themselves, and do not respect their 
peers in vice. The man of independence commands 
the respect of the good and the bad, of his friends and 
his opponents, of those who agree with him and those 
who do not. 

We should try, then, instead of consenting to wrong 
to attack the wrong, and instead of yielding to others to 
make them follow us ; for in so doing we give a victory 
not only to ourselves but to the right. There is no 
occasion where lack of courage is an advantage ; for 
the world hates meanness ; and one of the worst forms 
of meanness is the surrender by one who is right to 
one who is wrong, which is adding wickedness to 
weakness. 

One who goes down in the right goes up in others' 
opinions ; and he goes not down to stay, but only takes 
a back step for a higher leap ; and in the next battle he 
will fight at an advantage. Those contending for the 
right are never fighting a losing cause; and the cer- 
tainty of ultimate success gives courage in present 
defeat ; knowing that their cause will not fail, though 
its champions do. 



INDEPENDENCE. 185 

III. 

INDEPENDENCE. 

We should learn, as far as possible, to be self-suf- 
ficient, depending on our own opinions and will. To 
do this well we must, of course, be able to use others 
and their attainments. But a free spirit, ready to 
grapple with any problem, is necessary for the highest 
development and the greatest success. Instead of 
being pliable to outside influences, so as to be moved 
according as a stronger man meets us, we should feel 
our freedom within as a conscious security from cir- 
cumstances. 

If one can be good only in good company, and res- 
olute only under favorable conditions, he is mostly out- 
side of himself, his environment, instead of his char- 
acter, actuating him. The independent man has 
worked up much of nature into his own being, and has 
the forces of activity within him to resist and to act, so 
that outside circumstance is comparatively weak. 
Instead of being the play of winds and waves, he moves 
against adverse forces, and is himself a power deter- 
mining the current of surrounding events. There is a 
difference between guiding a vessel and being driven 
in it. 

One is free who keeps himself in a condition to bo 



186 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

always controlled by reason. For then he goes by his 
own judgment, which is his will. To allow other mo- 
tives to take possession of him, is like admitting 
pirates to run his vessel. To be thus internally free 
we should keep our wishes close along by our reason, 
so that in following our judgment we shall do what we 
please, which is the highest as well as the completest 
freedom — to wish what is right, and to do it from 
internal motive. 



IV. 

LAEGE - MINDEDNESS. 

Having many faculties, each capable of a high 
culture, which makes it a means of both usefulness 
and enjoyment, we should be many-sided in our devel- 
opment — cultivating our taste as well as our intel- 
lect, and our public spirit as well as our business 
capacity. The man of one concern only — money, 
society, family, music — is an incomplete man, narrow 
and incapable of either understanding or using the 
world. With but one interest, his happiness is inse- 
cure ; for when that fails, or ceases to satisfy, he has 
nothing on which to rely. Unsatisfactory to himself 
and others, he is not much of a man, and naturally 
displeases as well as is displeased. 



LARGE-MINDEDNESS. 187 

We have only as much of the world as we appre- 
ciate, and the many-sided man has many avenues to 
pleasure as well as to power. The world is several 
times as large to him as to the one-interest man, it 
being to all as large as their minds can grow to see it. 
We make the size of the world by the dimensions of 
our culture. Large-mindedness looks at a big world 
and takes hold of it with many hands. 

We should learn, accordingly, not to depreciate 
what others are interested in, since whatever occupies 
many, or great, minds, may be presumed to have 
value ; and if we can not appreciate it, it is because of 
something wanting in us, and not in them. We un- 
consciously criticise ourselves in criticising others, 
and declare our own weakness when we assert others' 
worthlessness. The man who can laugh at art, litera- 
ture, benevolence, or politics, is a man to be laughed 
at. Indifference to great interests is always evidence 
of limitation, instead of ability. Whatever interests 
men should be our interest; and, while interests are 
of different values, those that occupy many minds can 
never be wisely ignored. At all events we should not 
depreciate them till we understand them, and then we 
will not 



188 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

Y. 

IDEALITY. 

A refined mind is of next importance to a large 
mind, and closely related to it ; since the greatest 
principles, having the widest sweep, are of a delicate 
character, and not to be pursued by a coarse intellect 
into their refined applications. Some truths can be 
understood only by sensitive feelings, just as some 
pleasures, like music, can be enjoyed only by them. 
The highest appreciation of art is of this kind, so that 
sestheticism and refinement are nearly identical. Ex- 
alted poetic thought is of the same kind; and the 
highest reach of the philosopher requires the most 
exquisite refinement of feeling, as well as of thought. 
Morality, of course, depends much upon it, a highly 
refined mind revolting from most forms of vice; while 
in religion, "spiritual" is almost synonymous with 
"devotional." In society, the "fine" pleases, and 
works itself out as good taste in dress and manner. 
In public life it attracts in the orator and writer ; and 
in general it is powerful as well as pleasing. Beauty, 
grace, tenderness, are its natural expression; for a 
fine mind usually acquires a fine exterior, elegance 
being the language of refinement. Nature's move- 
ments are beautiful, and the mind approaching nearest 



IDEALITY. 189 

them is the most naturally, as well as the most fully, 
developed. It is as natural for the mind as for the 
tree to bloom into flowers, and in both the blossoms 
plentifully precede the fruit 



CHAPTER SEVENTH. 

INDUSTRY. 



ENEEGY. 



To accomplish anything in life, either for self or 
for others, one must be industrious; and one of the 
most important habits to acquire is to be busy. The 
active man gets nearly everything that is going; 
and the difference between the idle and the 
industrious makes nearly all the difference between 
failure and success. There are great differences in 
activity, some being more active than other active peo- 
ple, and some more frequently active, which corre- 
sponds in general with the differences in success. He 
who does most becomes most; and fame, wealth and 
happiness follow the path of the energetic man. 

Nearly all that is valuable is the result of work. Our 
pleasures are not productive ; and they have value only 
as relaxation from effort, or as the enthusiasm of our 
work itself. Grain, gold, scholarship, all are obtained 
by a forced activity. What we accomplish spontan- 
eously is, like weeds, worthless, and is mostly vice. 

190 



ENERGY. 191 

Arduous and directed energy is the producer; and 
we should see that we have much of this, so as to habit- 
ually live in effort. 

Work is not necessarily painful. It proceeds with 
pleasure when well under way, and when we have a 
habit of industry. It is only the start that is usually dis- 
agreeable, the first effort out of idleness being painful. 
But once started we naturally go on, activity being 
then almost automatic by the very law of inertia. 

The habit of making starts, therefore, is important. 
If we see that we are always started, nature will see 
that we are always going. It makes all the difference 
between an active and a lazy man to be able to start 
easily; for even the lazy man inclines to go on when 
started ; but his misfortune is that he starts seldom, so 
that for most of his life he is not going. The facility 
with which we make beginnings commonly determines 
our success ; for he who begins easily always has some- 
thing to do, and is generally doing it. 

We should acquire, therefore, as of first import- 
ance, the habit of getting up out of our idleness, and 
of moving and setting things in motion, — the habit 
of making first efforts and hard efforts. For he who 
begins work hard usually finds each successive stroke 
easier. Hard work itself grows easy with continuance, 
and effort becomes spontaneous with repetition, as well 
as does rest, there being habits of activity, as well as 



192 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

of idleness. For by much energy one becomes an 
energetic man, when his energy proceeds of itself; so 
that he goes to work as naturally as he gets up, and 
continues to work as naturally as he continues to keep 
awake, nature always helping the active man. 

When we consider how much there is to be done 
before we achieve any position in life, and how hard 
that work is, we see the necessity of habitual energy. 
Spurts of activity are not availing. The countless 
details requiring attention escape the spasmodic 
worker. In order to do much, one must be so often 
active as to be habitually active. Hard work often 
repeated is the price of success ; and we should learn 
not to " let up," or see ourselves idle. Beyond the 
time required for needed rest, we should have an active 
brain, an active will and active hands. Many tasks, 
and not one, constitute the successful man's employ- 
ment. They may be in the same line of work (and 
usually must be), but they must be numerous and 
independently taken up — tasks for every hour and 
every moment. 

Many are able to work if they are set at a task, and 
have nothing to do but keep at it. This is not energy, 
but often only the perseverance of laziness. Energy 
takes up many tasks, and, when it accomplishes them, 
goes to others. All the difference between energy and 
laziness, is that energy does not stop when it is done, 



ENERGY. 193 

but, taking up something else, keeps on through many 
achievements. Temptation comes when one task is 
done, and we are inclined to stop, instead of going on 
to the next. To take up new work is as important as 
to do the work in hand; and not to stop too long 
between works is a necessary condition of success. 

We should learn not to rest till we are weary, or to 
stop till we are done. In passing from one branch of 
work to another, we should not get the habit of feeling 
tired, and wanting to pause. Work often ends at such 
pause, instead of merely suffering an interval. The 
intervals between tasks should not be long; and lazi- 
ness should not be allowed to set in before we begin 
again. For at this juncture indolence usually attacks 
a man — when the next duty is to be done. We are 
too apt to take rest when we need none, or delay before 
beginning a new work, when it is only one of several 
little works which make a single task. 

Indolence is nearly all in the disinclination to begin ; 
and having so many little things to do, we should 
learn to begin often, as well as to begin easily. The 
man of many beginnings is the man of success. We 
should learn to begin quickly, to begin when we are 
busy, and to begin immediately on the completion of 
our last work; so that the many beginnings may make 
a continuity of the same task. Doing this we accom- 
plish many things; and many things make up the 
13 



194 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

great tasks. Instead of saving our energy for a few 
great works, we should learn to be often busy, and to 
be energetic at whatever we undertake. For there are 
not many successes that depend on only a few works. 
Success stands on many props. 

Above all, we should learn to work hard — to make 
great efforts, and to do all that we are capable of 
doing. Many never reach the maximum of their 
energy. There is a great difference between the aver- 
age effort of a man and his greatest effort. When his 
full nature comes out he usually accomplishes some- 
thing, and everyone should learn to go to the limit of 
his strength. This is easy enough in physical labor, 
like lifting and running, where one often even strains 
himself; but in using the mind, few know what they 
can do. 

It is important, therefore, to learn the power of 
concentration, and to be able to call out all our 
thought upon a subject. It is such efforts that pro- 
duce the great works of genius — inventions, poems, 
and philosophic systems — and that make great think- 
ers and men of action. When men habitually do their 
best they become the world's leaders. 

We should learn to work hard when we work, and 
to rest completely when we rest; to be wide awake 
when awake, and fast asleep when asleep; to call up 
all our energies when we want them, and to throw 



PERSEVERANCE. 195 

them all off when we do not need them, In this way 
we will learn, while using all our strength, not to dis- 
sipate it. To conserve our power is one of the great 
problems of the active man, and he who thinks he has 
too much to do will accomplish more if he uses his 
strength only for what he has to do. 



II. 
PEESEVEEANCE. 

Most fail of success from lack of perseverance; for 
little is accomplished at a single stroke, as we have 
said. The way of success is long, and becomes tedious 
before its end is reached. Those who give up when 
the stage of tediousness is reached, make a failure of 
life. Step after step, stroke after stroke, achievement 
after achievement, are required before anything of 
value is assured; and those who do not go to the end 
usually lose all they do. The way of life is strewn 
with the wrecks of those who have accomplished a 
part. 

It is the men who hold on that get what others let 
go. The persistent plodder gets the unfinished mansion 
of the dashing speculator, who works well for a while. 
The solid achievements are generally accomplished 
after the first enthusiasm is spent. The race is 



196 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

mostly determined in the last half mile. All can do 
well in starting, especially if the course is long, but 
keeping up is what counts. 

When the energy begins to flag, the time to apply 
courage has come, and he who overcomes at this stage 
is apt to succeed. The setting in of disinclination is 
the signal for perseverance to come forward. We can 
not persevere in commencing; it is when worn out, 
and when the hard work comes, that we need new 
infusions of spirit to carry us through. 

He is fortunate, therefore, who can recommence in 
the middle of his work, and keep up enthusiasm when 
the task becomes stale. The new is ever inspiring, and 
makes many run well for a while ; but to throw inspi- 
ration into the old is what counts. Continuity of work, 
or kept-up resolution, is the price of success. We 
should be able to begin where we have left off, and not 
leave off to stop, but to recuperate. To take up the 
thread of our endeavor is the secret of great achieve- 
ment, and so to weave our tasks into a whole. 

We must not only persevere in our working, but in 
our work, and keep busy at the same thing. Many 
active people are not successful because they change 
their employment, and thus present a career with 
many unfinished beginnings. They are fortunate who 
can work at one thing for a life ; for they are sure of 
something great. To keep to a purpose is to guaran- 



PERSEVERANCE. 197 

tee its realization. The number of efforts which any 
man can make are enough to get what almost any man 
strives for. Few things that the average man wants 
are unattainable by the average man. But many fail 
to attain them, because they do not keep in the track 
of them. The lazy stop, the irresolute go off in other 
paths, and he who aims at several targets hits none. 
To keep an object in view long enough to work up to 
it is often harder than to do the needed work. 

Any one who has a single plan for life, and never 
changes it, is sure of success ; and one of the most import- 
ant problems of man is to work up a system of living 
that shall keep him employed through life. By doing 
everything as part of a plan, and keeping at it, he will 
fill up a rounded life. But two half lives do not make 
a whole one, and two things half done do not make a 
completed one. Partial successes are only whole fail- 
ures, and everything begun that is not carried through 
is wasted. Men should learn to complete, as well as 
to begin, and especially to work on the last half of 
success. We should keep to our work and not change 
to another in which our past efforts will not count, but 
rather learn to end before we begin again, and be 
impatient of the incomplete. 

While we should be sure we are right before we go 
ahead, we should be sure we are wrong before we stop ; 
and, before changing to something else, we should 



198 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

consider whether we are willing that our present work 
shall be a failure. Do not change plans in the middle 
of an enterprise ; but, haying taken a resolution, refuse 
to reconsider it in the midst of its execution. When 
you have begun work call upon your will, rather than 
your judgment, and consider its completion rather 
than its wisdom. Do not give to decision the time 
needed for execution; but, having determined what to 
do, decline to weaken your resolution by reconsidera- 
tion. 

He who often stops along the way to consider the 
wisdom of his course, will render it unwise, if it is not 
already so ; whereas it is often better to resolutely fol- 
low an unwise purpose, than irresolutely to pursue a 
wise one. It is one thing to persevere and another to 
persevere at the same thing. We can keep up our 
energy without keeping up onr purpose; whereas, for 
success, we must keep up our energy on our purpose- 
Tasks are jealous of attention to others, and achieve- 
ment requires undivided devotion. 

Every one undertaking a task should consider 
whether he has perseverance enough for a long effort 
— whether he can toil for weeks, or years, or life, 
without wanting a change. It is the tasks which run 
through a long career that constitute, when done, the 
great achievements ; and one who easily gets tired of 



PEBSEVEKANCE. 199 

the same work should not begin anything great — or 
rather should cure his tendency to get tired. 

Men should learn continuity, not by thoughtlessly 
plodding at a prescribed task, which is routine, but 
by repeating great efforts on the same task. Perse- 
verance that is merely mechanical accomplishes no 
more than other unskilled labor. No great success is 
attained by simply turning a crank. But to throw into 
every part of the work the same thought and energy 
that we spend in its inception and first start, is what 
constitutes greatness. 

We have seen that nature helps us to persevere by 
Imparting an enthusiasm for our work when it is fairly 
ander way, so that we proceed almost spontaneously 
in the excitement. To some energetic souls it is easier 
to go on than to stop, like rolling down hill; and any 
one may acquire this impulse ; so that we have little 
more to do, in being persevering, than to start again 
the enthusiasm when it becomes low, or dies out, which 
often requires but a little effort. A concentration of 
thought, or mere commencement of work, will usually 
start it again. Perseverance is but a few little efforts 
thrown in along the way, to keep up the enthusiasm 
which the work itself generates ; and a little attention 
to this makes the habit of perseverance a permanent 
one, so that, like a falling body, we go of ourselves, 
and only have to begin in order to finish. 



200 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

III. 

DECISION. 

No qualification is so commonly deemed essential 
to success as decision, which implies several others. 
To make a decision we must think, and when thought 
precedes action it is to some purpose ; so that the man 
of decision is a man of thought, as well as of action. 
He is also a man of prudential thinking, since he must 
think with reference to results. And he is a compre- 
hensive thinker; since for decision all the details of 
the subject to be affected must be considered. He 
becomes, therefore, also a rapid thinker ; and, knowing 
that his thoughts will have definite results, he becomes 
an accurate thinker; so that we have, in decision, the 
essential condition of success, — constant thought and 
thought for a purpose. 

The undecided man is incomplete as a thinker. 
Running from subject to subject, without exhausting 
any consideration, his mind fails to furnish complete 
motives ; and, lacking comprehensiveness, it can not 
gather up all the considerations which should influ- 
ence him, and weigh them accurately for their proper 
effect on his conduct. A subject is not generally 
thought of adequately until we are about to act upon 
it; so that the undecided man has generally unsatis- 



DECISION, 201 

factory information, as well as volition. Decision is 
a great educator, as well as operator. 

Many decisions are necessary in order to make one 
a decided man, or to train him to decide with judg- 
ment. If he is not habitually decisive, he fails in 
decision when the critical moment comes. One must 
decide often to decide well, since the habit of quick 
decision, like other habits, comes only by practice. 
Hence we should on all subjects habituate ourselves 
to be decided, which implies that we have opinions on 
them, and that we act on such opinions; which fre- 
quent forming of opinions, and the rapidity of 
thought required therefor, is the best training for 
both the intellect and the will. 

For one can not be a man of decision without being 
a man of quick decision. There being many questions 
requiring decision, he has not much time for any one; 
and the experience acquired in deciding often, induces 
a facility for deciding instantly, so that rapidity fol- 
lows from practice. A second decision is easier than 
the first, and a thousandth is automatic. One who 
decides much, moreover, learns to look at a subject 
comprehensively, so as to quickly see how to decide, 
thus learning to take in the situation at a glance. 

Unless we decide we act by chance, letting circum- 
stances drive us instead of our judgment. There are 
so many occasions to act, that we must often do so 



202 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

whether we decide or not, and when action comes 
before decision it generally ends in a mistake. We 
should keep our thoughts ahead of our wills, and 
make action follow intention. Life thus becomes the 
execution of a plan, instead of the play of chance. 

Often, indeed, we have not the materials for a deci- 
sion, so that we can not be certain we are right. In 
such cases we should decide on the best information 
we have, which, at the worst, is better than no 
decision, for without such decision we should be 
driven solely by chance. The habit, moreover, of 
deciding induces a capacity for making good deci- 
sions, even upon few data, and the probabilities are 
that we will decide right. 

But whether we do or not, it is the best we can do, 
and we should learn to act courageously when we are 
attempting our best, no matter how poor that may be. 
They who can act only when sure will accomplish lit- 
tle, since nearly all great enterprises must be begun 
in uncertainty. We should learn to be decisive in 
doubtful matters as well as in sure, and to act with 
resolution when we can not be certain. Having 
decided our best, we should next do our best. The 
courageous man is no more afraid of uncertainties 
than of difficulties. Some of the most heroic acts are 
done in the face of possible failure, so that the 
chances that we may not succeed need not unnerve us. 



DECISION. 203 

When we are sure of failure we may stop, but 
not when we are uncertain of success. While we 
should be sure we are right when sureness is possible, 
we should go ahead just as resolutely on probabilities 
when probabilities are all we can get. Every man 
must make up his mind to stand a few failures in an 
active life; but the resolute man can often wrest suc- 
cess from the conditions of failure, whereas the irres- 
olute one can not take hold of success when it is within 
his reach. 

We should learn, therefore, when we have made 
the best decision of which we are capable, to act with 
as much conviction as if we were certain, for such 
decision is as right for us as if no doubt existed. The 
best possible should always be deemed the best con- 
ceivable as far as conduct is concerned, and he is for- 
tunate who can be decided in doubtful matters. A 
strong will may be founded on probabilities, and we 
should never let irresolution add disaster to uncei 
tainty. 



204 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

IV. 
EAENESTNESS. 

Little is accomplished without an impression of its 
importance; and he who looks seriously at life is best 
fitted for its weighty tasks. The trifler accomplishes 
but trifles ; and dealing habitually in small matters, he 
sees things small. This habit belittles the mind until 
it is soon unfit for great activities. 

We should, therefore, be in earnest, and enter life 
with zeal. To this end we should see that we are 
roused, instead of merely tickled, and that our feelings 
are called out, as well as our strength. It is import- 
ant that we act with the most of ourselves. He who 
is not deeply interested in anything has nothing on 
which to succeed in life ; for the success of trifling or 
indifference is no better than failure. 

The earnest man gets respect, as the trifler gets 
contempt. When he speaks he is heard; for habitual 
earnestness gives him something to say. While there 
is not much difference between trifling and folly, there 
is, in all earnestness, a measure of sense. 

Much vice arises from lack of earnestness, which 
prevents the trifler from adequately considering the 
virtues, or being duly influenced by them. The habit- 
ual consideration of trifles diverts the mind from 



EARNESTNESS. 205 

weighty topics, such as the moral interests all are. 
Seriousness and virtue are commonly deemed identical. 
Earnestness is not, indeed, incompatible with amuse- 
ment. Mirth, sport, wit, all may coexist with it. But 
life is not all fun, and we should be able to be serious 
when we want to. It being the earnest that counts, 
and the trifling that is unproductive, we should not 
indulge the latter as a general business, or trifle 
enough to make ourselves triflers. As the bulk of life 
is serious, our habitual demeanor should correspond 
with it. 

It is tiresome to be a monkey — especially to the 
one who is monkeyed to. Seriousness is a relief where 
there is much nonsense. Amusement should take no 
more time than is required for recreation. The bulk 
of our enjoyment should be derived from our work; 
for we may learn to enjoy our serious, as well as our 
lighter states, and to enjoy such states in others. It 
is as important to learn to enjoy the great as to do the 
great, and so to get great souls as well as great intel- 
lects, or to effect an enlargement of feeling through 
the grandeur of our pleasures. 



CHAPTER EIGHTH. 

SELF-SUPPORT. 



For our livelihood each must depend on himself, 
as much as do the brutes. For, though we use and 
help one another in society, we are no less independ- 
ent than if society did not exist. We must rely on 
ourselves in order to use this help. The aids of 
society only make larger demands on us to aid our- 
selves ; for our wants, induced by society, increase 
quite as fast as the supply we get from society. Man 
must simply help himself with men, which is now the 
problem of self-support. 

Unless one supports himself he becomes a charity 
subject or criminal, living against the laws of society. 
While our parents and friends help us when children 
and when aged, the period of competency should be 
lived in self-support. Though we can not, indeed, 
when working together, say what each contributes to 
his own support (since many are supported by a com- 
mon work), each should be sure that he contributes 
enough to the general labor of society to entitle him 
to a support from the results. Whether it comes as 

206 



SELF-SUPPORT. 207 

products, as profits or as wages, he should see that he 
earns a livelihood as well as that he gets it. This 
implies a support not only for himself, but for those 
depending on him; for everyone has for some periods 
dependencies on him, just as for other periods he is a 
dependency. 

The duty of self-support implies that of diligence, 
already referred to, and of care, frugality, and many 
other virtues; also of ambition, or a desire to get up 
in life, where we can control the forces of society, and 
use them for ourselves and others. It implies also 
self-defense, including the defense of those depending 
upon us — a duty which goes to the extent of using 
force, when necessary, against those wrongfully 
assailing us or withholding our rights, and of going 
to law or war for ourselves or country. The right to 
live has no limits, and those who stand in its way 
should themselves look to the consequences of such 
violation. 

The duty to support ourselves is the greater 
because all other duties so largely depend upon it. 
The tramp can not perform his duties because of his 
helpless condition, so that he is not only worthless to 
society, but when his vagrancy is voluntary, is a 
wrong-doer. We owe something to the respectability 
of people, and it is a duty to be well-to-do when that 
is possible. 



208 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

This duty of self-support is the more imperative 
because the support of others is incidentally involved, 
as of our families. We have no right to keep others 
in poverty, even if we ourselves are willing to be poor, 
so that a competence is a virtue as well as an educa- 
tion. 

One has, therefore, no right to be lazy, or unem- 
ployed, or purposeless, or impractical, which are the 
usual hindrances to support. He should have the 
domestic virtues, with a home and wife and well-kept 
children, and take position with his neighbors as a 
substantial citizen. He has no right to follow a whim, 
as an eccentric man or nondescript, to the neglect of 
those who depend, or should depend, on him. Every- 
one should perform his social duties, by having his 
right position in society. 

A good support is the measure of a well developed 
man, and shows a most desirable balancing of powers. 
When one can not get along there is something lack- 
ing in his character — industry, purpose, integrity or 
something practical. To support a family well calls 
out many capabilities, and often makes the manly man. 
The man of family is not apt to be one-sided, like the 
bachelor, theorist or tramp. The best man, as a rule, 
is in the way of the best support; as the duties all 
imply this, and tend to it. 



CHAPTER NINTH- 
self-control. 



WILL POWER 

It is all important to have ourselves under control, 
so as not to run through life at random, and to have 
all our powers under control so as not to be carried off 
by one into eccentricity. To regulate a life is no small 
part of life. Unless we control ourselves others will 
do so, or else we will drift through a purposeless exist- 
ence ; and if we fail to control any particular function, 
the rest will overbear it, and often the worst — the 
passions generally controlling the reason. The whole 
man should be carried along in our career, each func- 
tion performing its part, so that all of them together 
shall lead us to the desired goal of life. 

To this end we must have a will, and make life pro- 
ceed according to it. Nothing should be done until 
we decide to do it. Spontaneous or impulsive, living 
has no results. Our actions should be intended. 
When we design anything we must usually think about 

14 209 



210 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

it, as we have seen; so that our effort becomes the 
result of consideration. To lie around waiting for 
inclinations to drive us is like trying to cross the ocean 
by chance winds without a pilot. Accidental impulses 
never drive men to great achievements. 

We should, accordingly, see that we are frequently 
intending. The will, like a picket, should never be 
off guard, except when we sleep ; and sleep even should 
be taken in obedience to our will. He who allows 
himself to go to sleep when he does not want to, has 
not adequate control of himself; and if he were a sen- 
tinel he would be shot for unfaithfulness. There 
should be no accidental rest any more than accidental 
labor. We ought not to quit work without our own 
permission, but learn to get our consent for all time 
given to idleness, as well as to labor. There is so 
much natural inclination to do nothing, that, without 
the direction of the will, our whole life-stream is lia- 
ble, like a river going down hill, to rush into some 
low pool of stagnation. 

To this end we should learn, when we know what 
we want to do, to will to do it. Volition should be 
trained to follow quick on judgment. To see our duty 
should be to do it. Laziness should not be allowed to 
intervene between our decision and our volition. To 
have a will to work quickly and unfailingly at such 
times is (like having a mind for similarly quick decis- 



WILL POWER. 211 

ion), one of the greatest guarantees of a successful 
life ; and such a will is the result of much practice. 
To do our duty unfailingly we must have done many 
duties, so that duty and habitual duty are nearly the 
same. 

Many never learn to execute. Their will lags 
behind their judgment; and undone decisions pile up 
awaiting performance. Their life ebbs away at ran- 
dom, and even their thinking is purposeless. Quick 
willing is as imperative as quick thinking, and a read- 
iness to do as a readiness to decide. 

He who learns not to will when his duty is seen, 
becomes conscienceless. It should hurt us to stop at 
a decision, as being an unnatural ending of a move- 
ment, like a fall. Performance ought to follow inten- 
tion as naturally as eating does an appetite, or explo- 
sion a torch. There should be no divorce between our 
judgment and our execution. A will, like a wheel, 
should work easily, and start at the first signal from 
conscience. Alert wills are as important as alert 
minds, sluggishness clogging action as much as 
thought. There should be no long route between the 
volition and the act. Directness should characterize 
our whole life; and we should be no sooner willing 
than doing. Quick execution is as necessary as quick 
willing and quick thinking ; so that a duty seen, a duty 



212 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

undertaken and a duty* done should be a rapid succes- 
sion of events. 



IL 
PEUDENOE. 



Next in importance after having everything under 
control, is to have it in proper subordination; so that 
the great interests shall receive great attention, and 
the minor interests small attention, according to their 
importance. This regulation is the work of prudence, 
which weighs and adjusts. Much of life is dissipated 
on little things, which, though valuable, are not worth 
the attention given them. All undue time spent on 
trifles is taken from something important. 

Much time is also spent on one thing, when a bet- 
ter might be chosen. There should be a choice between 
good things as well as between good and bad mixed. 
It is important to get not only the good, but the best ; 
and many errors are committed by doing well when 
we should do better. To do the right thing, and to 
choose it among many claiming to be such, is the con- 
summation of wisdom. Good sense shows itself chiefly 
in prudence, which must pick out a right course where 
there are many good ones, as well as where there are 
few; and it is often harder, as well as more important, 



PRUDENCE. 213 

to do what is best among the good, than to do what is 
good among the bad. Many of our chief difficulties 
come from the plentitude of our advantages, where to 
take one and leave another may be a serious disadvant- 
age. 

One of the first rules of prudence is not to fly off 
after everything good that offers. Such a course leads 
to the frequent abandonment of what we are doing for 
something that seems better; since all advantages 
seem best when first presented. The prudent man 
thinks before he commences something else, and espec- 
ially before he quits what he is at. We should act 
cautiously, therefore, as well as act, and see that we 
have the caution when we stop for it, instead of delay- 
ing from mere timidity, which is irresolution. 

To be prudent we must be thoughtful, and not pro- 
ceed without considering, cautious, and not undertake 
without calculating, and discriminating, and not choose 
without comparing, so that we shall attain only what 
is valuable, and undertake only what is possible. We 
should guard against both failure and success in the 
worthless; for one often fails through imprudent suc- 
cesses, and loses his aim as a whole by gaining his 
aims as parts. Many good things go only to make up 
a bad whole, and we should see that what we desire is 
what is best on the whole, as well as that what we do 
will attain it as a whole, eo that we do not fail in all 



214 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

by succeeding in everything. We should set the right 
end before us, so that every successful step shall bring 
us nearer a desired object. When going in the wrong 
direction all progress leads backward. 

Our desires should express our real wants, so that 
when we attain them we shall have supplied some 
actual need. Many seek what they do not want, when 
success is only a failure of their purpose. It is as 
important to regulate our desires as our conduct, so 
that we shall want only what we need. Many desires 
express only whims, and when attained fill no require- 
ments, so that no course of prudent conduct can satisfy 
them. 

Desires may be prudent as well as efforts, and we 
should see that we do not want the undesirable, as 
well as that we do not get it. It is our duty to want the 
good as well as to do it, and often our first duty is to 
get our desires right. As desires lead to conduct as 
their natural expression, the regulation of our desires 
is a great part of our conduct. Bad desires may be 
stopped as well as bad actions, and one cannot hope to 
be good whose wishes are wrong. Since one usually 
does what he wants to, his wants must be right if 
virtue be not a constant effort against his nature. He 
who starts his desires on the way of right is making 
motives for good conduct, for if one wants the good he 
will do it as voluntarily as the evil. 



MODERATION. 215 

Desire-making is, therefore, an important part of 
ethics. Being responsible for our wants as well as 
for our deeds, the duty of desiring right is funda- 
mental. The judgment should get in behind our 
wishes, and set our will to working there. Desires 
may be reasonable as well as thoughts, and we should 
get our own permission to wish as well as to act. We 
should have no desires that we do not want, but set 
our reason to work upon them, for reason can control 
our feelings as well as our will. The will can thus 
get behind not only the will, but the motive that 
drives the will, so that its freedom is back of all 
movement and in league with reason there. We 
should not overlook in morals this greatest part of our 
responsibility — the responsibility for our wishes. 



III. 
SELF -RESTRAINT. 

1. — MODERATION. 
(1) — In General 

All our powers are liable to run to excess, as well 
as to stop short of sufficiency; and this excess pro- 
duces the common vices — drunkenness, gluttony, 
licentiousness, avarice, etc. For many hold that all 



216 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

vice is simply an excess of virtue; that licentiousness, 
for example, is an excess of love, intemperance an 
excess of drinking, avarice an excess of economy, 
prodigality an excess of liberality, cowardice an excess 
of prudence, recklessness an excess of courage, and, in 
general, each vice an excessive use in one direction, ox 
its opposite, of a function whose proper use constitutes 
a virtue. 

Without admitting this, however, but thinking 
rather that vice is an abnormal, as well as excessive, 
use of a faculty (for there can not be too much love, 
but love in its greatest strength is very different from 
licentiousness), we must admit that every excess is a 
vice, and works injury. 

Some of our functions tend naturally to excess, and 
need habitual restraint: as eating, drinking and rest- 
ing ; while others run rarely to excess, so that their 
inordinate use has no name among the vices: as think- 
ing, willing, and acting; although in the latter also 
excess may be serious as vice, even if nameless (as 
when people break down through hard work or over- 
strained nerves). Moderation in all things is a virtue, 
and consists in the use of each faculty up to its health- 
ful limit, and in just proportion to its importance 
among the functions. While a proper use of all our 
faculties is necessary for their development, an excess- 
ive use of one not only injures that, but withdraws 



GLUTTONY. 217 

strength from the others, so as to make us monstrosi- 
ties, or lop-sided characters. 

The immoderate man is always out of proportion, 
and in some way impractical. His opinions have little 
weight, as a rule; his statements are not reliable, his 
presence is not pleasing, and, in general, he is not of 
much use to himself or others. The embodiment of 
imprudence, he rarely achieves a great or lasting suc- 
cess. Practical sense consists in taking enough of 
everything, and stopping at enough, and especially in 
avoiding hobbies by giving due importance to every- 
thing. For a hobby consists not so much in empha- 
sizing one thing as in neglecting many. 

Virtue, we have seen, is simply the right use of 
ourselves, which gives us most pleasure, as well as 
most profit, especially when life is taken all together; 
so that he who goes to excess gets no advantage from 
it when results are summed up. 

Let us consider, then, several of the forms of mod- 
eration and the opposite excesses which constitute 
vices; and, first, gluttony. 

(2) — Gluttony. 

He who eats too much gets more pain than pleas- 
ure from his meal, so that gluttony has no advantages 
over a proper use of food. The pleasure in having the 
food go down is but little compared with the pain of 



218 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

keeping it there — or getting rid of it. One does not 
eat to eat, but to digest and live; and the task of 
living on badly-eaten food is a painful one. Good 
living can not follow on bad eating; but as you eat, so 
shall you live ; and when the aches and pains come 
you will see the sins of your dinner. Excess is nearly 
all worked off in agony ; and some time in life you 
must pay in ill-health for all your indiscretions. 

The certainty with which Nature inflicts the penalty 
for the violation of her laws in eating, is a good exam- 
ple for all living. For a proper use of life, which we 
call virtue, is simply that which gives us most pleas- 
ure and least pain, when taken all together; whereas 
the vice which indulges the moment, at the expense of 
the rest of life, is sure to meet suffering in the end, 
and more suffering than will off-set the pleasure of 
excess. For while the pleasure of vice is temporary, 
the pain is permanent. The first gives us a tickled 
palate, the last leaves us the dyspepsia; and the ques- 
tion of the profit of vice is whether you will, for a big 
dinner, take an afternoon colic. 

We should eat for life, and not for a meal ; and, con- 
sidering how much the pleasures of appetite are worth, 
should try to have them last. Some eat as if their 
meal were their last, and as if they were going to 
destroy their stomach as well as their appetite ; which, 
in fact, many are doing — eating on toward their last 



GLUTTONY. 219 

meal. Their excesses are fast destroying their palate 
and their digestion, so that they soon can eat no more 
with pleasure, and no more at all 6xcept with pain. 
Man should not eat away his stomach, but eat as if it 
were to last for life. To come to old age with an unim- 
paired digestion is to enjoy a whole life of eating; and 
virtue generally consists in enjoying things so that 
they shall last — that the appetite and the man shall 
both last. 

Many eat away their capacity to enjoy. Excess 
destroys the taste, so that it can not appreciate; and 
spices and relishes must be used to stimulate it. Food 
goes through some people's throats as if they were 
iron tubes; and such persons feel more in their stom- 
achs than in their mouths — the feeling being pain 
instead of taste. Good food, properly taken, keeps up 
the taste as well as the other functions; and it is our 
duty to keep up a good appetite through life. 

To do this, however, we must not take too much of 
it away at one meal. Appetite will not recover any 
more than will the stomach, after excess; and repeated 
excess takes away permanently the pleasure, as well 
as the profit of eating. When one eats without relish 
and digests with pain, the time is approaching when 
he will eat no more. It is the career of all vice to 
destroy itself. He who runs himself down at the mouth 



220 THE VIETUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

is one of the most despised wrecks, and he gives out 
most ungracefully. 

(3) — Amusements. 

The same principle applies to all other enjoyments. 
Pleasures to be of long duration, must be taken in 
moderation ; and it is as important not to lose our self- 
control in our enjoyments as in our work. Dissipa- 
tion ends one's pleasures sooner than his pains. He 
should, therefore, take his pleasure so as to get most 
of it, which is by taking a little at a time. He who 
makes a business of pleasure finds it as hard work as 
any other business; and, besides palling on his appe- 
tite, it wears him out faster than work. One can take 
only a certain amount and have it pleasure, just as he 
can take only a certain amount of food. To take 
pleasure all the time would be as hard as to sleep all 
the time. When you have enough your appetite is 
gone, and you must turn to something else to get a rel- 
ish for more. 

To enjoy, you must have a want to fill, want being 
the capacity for pleasure, and if you keep your wants 
always supplied you can not have the satisfaction of 
filling them. As one must have hunger in order to 
eat, so must he have desires in order to enjoy; and to 
keep himself surfeited is to destroy his capacity for 
enjoyment. What many need is wants rrther thau 



AMUSEMENTS. 221 

possessions. He who needs nothing is not the happy 
man, but he who is supplying his needs. To have great 
enjoyments we must have great wants, enjoyment 
being simply the filling of our wants. 

The want, moreover, must be felt, as well as the 
filling of it. The appetite is the greatest part of 
every dinner, and we should not be afraid to get hun- 
gry. Depriving ourselves of pleasure is as necessary 
to enjoyment as taking pleasure, and learning to want 
is no little part of our training for happiness. The 
time spent in getting hungry is as important for the 
dinner as the time spent in eating. He who does not 
know how to deprive himself long enough to be in 
good condition to enjoy himself, has not learned the 
secret of happiness. Want-making is as important as 
want-filling, and to build up wants we must not be 
impatient of the sense of deprivation. To feel want 
without inconvenience is a great qualification for 
enjoying life. 

Instead, therefore, of a life of pleasure, pleasure 
should alternate with work. Work is the appetite for 
pleasure, as pleasure is the appetite for work. Each 
feeds the other, and will stop if its correlative is want- 
ing. To be able to rest well, one must be able to get 
tired well ; to sleep well, he must conduct himself well 
when awake; to eat well, he must get hungry well; 
and to amuse himself well he must employ himself 



222 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

well. He who never works can never rest, as he who 
is never awake can never sleep, but is permanently- 
dead. 

The busy man has most time for pleasure, as he 
has most capacity, because he can have pleasure in all 
his unemployed time. The idle man has little time 
for pleasure, because for most of his time he can not 
enjoy himself, and that only is pleasure-time in which 
pleasure can be taken. Taking all life together, 
therefore, the hard-working man gets most pleasure, 
and the pleasure-seeker, or person who gives himself 
up mainly to pleasure, gets least pleasure. 

Virtue requires the sacrifice of no pleasures, but 
the regulation of our pleasures, so that we shall have 
most pleasure, and that it shall last longest. We 
must often forego little pleasures for greater ones, 
and pleasures now for longer ones hereafter; but the 
aim of virtue is to get most enjoyment out of life, tak- 
ing all life and all enjoyment into account. 

(4) — Cupidity. 

Greed is a disgusting vice, no matter what you are 
greedy for — food, amusements, or money — and it 
generally defeats its end. By being lost in the 
present you surrender the future. Money, like food, 
is a means; and, as by eating to die, instead of to live, 
you eat away what your are eating for, so by giving 



CUPIDITY. 223 

yourself wholly to money-getting, you give yourself 
away to your money. He wlio lives for money looks 
but a short way ahead, and when he gets it lie has 
what he can not use. For money is only a half-way 
measure, where one should start for something else. 
By stopping at its acquisition he ends his life in the 
middle. We need money that we may live better; 
and to give up living well in order to make money, is 
to abandon the end of life to get the means. Such a 
one is about as wise as the doctor who should kill his 
patient to get his medicine into him. It is one thing 
to get ready to live, and another to live; and to kill 
yourself in the preparation is to defeat your work 
before it is begun. 

The desire for getting money should not destroy the 
capacity to enjoy it. It is as important to know how 
to spend money as to know how to acquire it ; and he 
who can not use it can not be said to have it, as far 
as its purposes are concerned. Like a dyspeptic 
who can do everything with his dinner but eat it, the 
miser, who can do everything with his gold but spend 
it, is only the steward for his heirs, earning as a hire- 
ling and managing as an agent what he can not him- 
self enjoy. For he sells himself out as a slave to 
one passion which denies him everything else. 



224 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

(5) —Self -Sacrifice. 

In all our pursuits, and particularly in our pleas- 
ures, we must make many sacrifices, which are neces- 
sary for our own success and enjoyment, as well as 
for the good of others. All work is of the nature 
of sacrifice, in which we give up some of our incli- 
nation for future results. Self-denial is the price of 
health, intelligence, possessions, and nearly every- 
thing that we want, and we should learn to heroic- 
ally sacrifice. 

He who can not do what he does not want to, can 
not have what he wants. While we should avoid 
denying ourselves when it is useless, we should be 
ready to fast, thirst, suffer, or work, when our interest 
lies in that direction. He who can do only the pleas- 
ant things that are for his advantage, will make 
little progress, as the way of success runs across 
hardships. 

To overcome our own inclinations — and disinclin- 
ations — is a great part of life's work. We often 
stand in the way of our purposes, and must push our- 
selves aside to get our ends. This overcoming of self 
is the victory which helps us to overcome others. He 
who can not surmount his own inclinations can not 
surmount those of his fellows; for others, it may be 



SELF- SACRIFICE. 225 

presumed, will oppose him harder than he does him- 
self. 

There is much about us that we do not want, and 
we must pare off ourselves to get what is really us, and 
not mere dead flesh that has accreted upon us. When 
one works his way out through his blood and bile and 
opposing humors to his task, he has cut his road half 
way to success. Some men are their own greatest 
opponents, and to get a body that will always respond 
to the will is of vital importance. 

One must learn to give up much to have it hereaf- 
ter, to give up something pleasant to have something 
better, to give up something desired to have something 
needed, and to give up, in general, anything to have 
the right thing. While it is important not to have 
desires which we should not gratify, it is equally im- 
portant, when we have them, to be able to surrender 
them. The denial of unprofitable inclinations is the 
best way to prevent their recurrence. 

The child must learn to give up play, the youth 
amusement and the man ease, when it stands in the 
way of his interests. This sacrificing of one thing for 
another (which is usually something desired for some- 
thing preferred, but not yet desired), is highly import- 
ant ; for desire can not always keep up with judgment, 
so as to want what is thought best. We must, there- 
fore, commence nearly everything in disinclination, 
15 



226 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

and against some other inclination, so that we are 
nearly always called upon to give up something that 
we want for something that we ought to have, or to 
exchange the desired for the valued. 

We should learn the important lesson of preferring 
the general to the particular good, and of striving for 
it when we do not yet desire it. Desire often comes 
after intention, and after work begun ; so that what is 
begun in disinclination is pursued with avidity. But 
we must not wait for desire to begin with. Inclination 
is so long in overtaking us in some tasks that we must 
often sacrifice to the end. 

(2) — PATIENCE. 

To accomplish anything men must learn to wait as 
well as to work, and particularly to wait for results. 
Little is accomplished at once, and that of little value. 
Everything of importance has a long parentage of 
causes, and the practical man must look far ahead in 
his enterprises. To demand immediate results, or to 
work only for what will produce them, disqualifies for 
permanent success. Some things can not be forsed. 
Crops must have their time to grow. And one must 
learn how not to work, as well as how to work, and 
when. To wait without suffering is a great attain- 
ment. 

To do this successfully one must learn to work 



PATIENCE. 227 

while waiting. To be patient in idleness is not much 
better than to be impatient in idleness. We should 
do something else while waiting for our first work to 
ripen into results, and not allow the delay between 
cause and effect to unnerve us. Time works for the 
patient man; and when all is done that needs to be 
done, we should not worry about what is to come with- 
out being done. Instead of fretting over the past, we 
should work for the future, and let our rewards come 
to us when busy. To wait long and work long is the 
price of success, and to wait and work when there is 
no near encouragement. 

In disappointment and sorrow especially should we 
be patient, and learn to work after failing, as well as 
before succeeding. Feeling bad should not stop duty ; 
but bad feeling itself may be stopped by taking up new 
tasks, and exchanging other hopes for the disappointed 
ones. Eegrets should be short; and we should not 
let pain, any more than pleasure, wear out our lives, 
the only use of pain being to cause us to stop what pro- 
duces it. 

When you lose anything make the best of what 
remains, and not the worst of what is gone; and be 
always ready to swap enjoyments that you can not have 
for those that you can. 



228 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

3. —MODESTY. 

The modest man has many advantages — not that 
modesty is a great virtue, but that its lack is a great 
fault. We are naturally offended at the boaster or 
arrogant man. Merit discloses itself, and so needs no 
herald ; but when one praises himself he detracts from 
his reputation. 

To keep your mind on your own importance is to 
produce littleness, as well as to show that it already 
exists. The strongest men think little of themselves, 
and less of their importance. In contrasting yourself 
with others, you need not dwell on your superiority or 
express your satisfaction with yourself. "When one 
begins to praise himself others cease to praise him, 
and when he thinks much of himself he gets no com- 
pany in his opinion. We should, therefore, restrain 
our self-love, so that it never show itself as self-glori- 
fication. 

One's attention is always attracted from his duties 
when he dwells complacently on himself, and our 
absorption should be in our tasks instead of their per- 
former. We should not let too much of our feelings, 
any more than of our person, be seen; and in public 
speaking even we should, instead of indecent mental 
exposure, keep ourselves in the background. One 
never hears with patience one who presents a subject 
if he presents himself with it. 



DEMEANOR. 229 

It is a disagreeable weakness to want to see your 
name and face conspicuous, and those who see it are 
more apt to hate your vanity than admire your noto- 
riety. When your deeds herald you you are though i 
famous, but when you herald yourself you are thought 
indelicate. One worthy of recognition generally gets 
it, but he who thinks more of the reward of merit 
than of merit rarely gets either. Fame and respect 
should be received as incidentals. To pursue them is, 
like pursuing your shadow, to drive them from you. 
They follow merit as an effect, and do not precede it 
as a cause. 

4.— DEMEANOR. 

Good demeanor expresses, in general, the outward 
conduct which conforms to these inward graces. Our 
" manners " are always important, and to many they 
furnish the only means of judging us. Especially is 
this so on first acquaintance, where good manners is 
the next thing to make an impression after good look3. 
With those who get but little acquainted they furnish 
the whole estimate of the man, while with those who 
are well acquainted they perpetually ingratiate. 

To have good manners one must have many good 
qualities, because they always express something, and 
generally something good. To be well behaved, so as 
invariably to do the right thing at the right time, is 



230 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

no little accomplishment, and implies no little charac- 
ter. The rules of etiquette are mostly rules of sense, 
so that what is required in society is something good 
instead of bad. Where etiquette descends to the 
trivial, we can, of course, safely ignore it; and where 
it falls to the silly we must do so to exhibit sense; 
but such cases are rare and generally local, so that 
they are not really what good breeding requires. 

To be in style is wise, if you must not go through 
too much foolishness to get in. The fashions are gen- 
erally what the concerted sense of mankind has agreed 
upon, and if you do not go to extremes therein (which 
is really to get out of fashion) you will do well to 
dress, eat and behave like others. The fashions, more- 
over, are flexible, so that without getting out of style 
you can generally find something to your taste and 
judgment. Some men can not follow the fashions 
without making fools of themselves, just as some can 
not ignore them without doing so. The best practice 
is to observe the customs without making it a matter 
of importance, so that you will not be known for your 
dress, or gait, or tone, but for your sense. 

Affectation should be especially avoided ; since one 
can never appear so well in any character as his own, a 
forced appearance, like anything else forced, being 
always awkward and displeasing. In imitating another 
you destroy your own charms without getting his ; for 



DEMEANOK. 231 

affectation never reaches the thing affected. The best 
grace attainable is through the cultivation of your 
own talents, so as to bring them out in the line of their 
natural growth. 

Much of our proper demeanor depends on our situ- 
ation — our age, occupation, wealth and relation to 
other people. To act according to our situation is the 
highest grace. As youth, our proper behavior is obe- 
dience to parents, teachers and others in charge of us ; 
and in such position, insubordination is not independ- 
ence, but the want of it. We are not, when thus diso- 
bedient, independent enough to follow a rational line 
of behavior, which a little thought would recommend. 
Self-control requires us to give ourselves into the con- 
trol of others for a while; and if we do not restrain 
ourselves so as to be directed by others, we can not 
restrain ourselves for our own direction when the time 
for that comes. Independence requires us to give up, 
as well as to insist, and to learn to follow, as well as to 
lead. Obedience becomes often an active principle, 
since many must act together. The physician, the 
attorney, the general, the ruler, all must act for us ; 
and it is no less a duty of sovereignty to follow them 
than it is to appoint them ; so that following is a part 
of our directing. 

Children and students must learn to obey before 
they learn to command ; and they should learn this les- 



232 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

son as a preparation for a larger control. He who does 
not obey in reason can not command in reason ; but to 
insist on having the lead at all times disqualifies one 
for having the lead at all. He is most powerful who 
knows how to give up. To know when not to yield, 
you must know when to yield. It does not pay to 
expend yourself in holding on, when you should be 
saving your strength by letting go. Many of our vic- 
tories are won by yielding ; and the man of great cour- 
age has the courage to hold back when it is not 
prudent to come forward. The greatest leader is one 
who knows well when not to lead, but to allow things 
to go on without him. We must learn not to do some 
things, as well as to do others, and to let others do, as 
well as to make them do. 



IV. 
SELECTING THOUGHTS. 

1. — IN GENERAL. 

The greatest guarantee of morality is to keep the 
mind on good subjects. If we do not allow ourselves 
to think of anything bad, we will not want to do it. 
Temptation comes only through the mind — with 
dwelling on the evil — its passage to the desires be- 



SELECTING THOUGHTS. 233 

ing always through the thoughts. By reflecting 
exclusively on the good, we will want to do that 
instead; and, as we can as easily get interested in the 
good as in the bad, there is no sacrifice in thus choos- 
ing the best. 

Since, therefore, we can create an interest for what- 
ever we want to, it is part of our duty to get interested 
in the right subjects, as well as to pursue them. It 
being the interesting that engages us, we should make 
interesting the most important things. This may be 
done by contemplating them. What first gets our 
attention is apt to win our affections; and to keep 
the mind on the right subjects is to have the right 
desires. 

We should no more let our minds run at random 
than our wills, but direct what we think as well as 
what we do. We need have no thoughts that we are 
not willing to have; and we should get our own con- 
sent to do our thinking. It is our duty to keep 
out bad thoughts as carefully as bad desires. A man 
is made by what he thinks on; and self-direction 
should begin far back in the mind. 

We can call up the world we want to live in; and 
where there are so many subjects we are not justified 
in having poor ones. Where we are thinking we are 
living; and each one makes his mental surroundings. 
By thinking on public questions, poetry, art, philoso- 



234 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

phy, or benevolence, we live in an elevated region, 
and find it as congenial as anything else. By think- 
ing on drink, debauchery, or gossip, we come to find a 
life of vice congenial. We create companionship by 
our thoughts, and what the mind dwells on becomes 
our moral environment. Our thoughts, no more than 
our persons, should be in bad company. 

One should see that his thinking is laid out, and 
that he has a plan for the conduct of his mind. As 
all his nature follows his thoughts, his intellect should 
be set in the right direction, and a thought-fabric be 
planned for a life work. What you are going to think 
on is as important a question as what you are going to 
do; and you should see that you have the right work 
for your mind. We should no more trust to chance 
for what we are to think about, than for what we are 
to do, but should see that we have a plan of thinking 
that is adequate to our general purposes. 

We must make our mind before we can use it ; and 
the direction of our thoughts determines the character 
of the capacity . with which we are to work. The 
thoughts that we put into our head become our 
mind ; and every one under self-control is making 
himself. You have, therefore, to determine what you 
will be, and become your own intellectual and moral 
parent. If you do not determine it yourself, your 
surroundings will; and men made by chance are no 



READING. 235 

better than other chance products. If you allow the 
slums to make you, you will be mostly slum. 

All persons, and particularly the young, should 
consider where their thoughts are leading them, and 
whether they want to go there. Character-building 
commences with the direction given to thought, for 
everything that is thought stays, in part, in the mind. 
Even what hurriedly passes through and is forgotten, 
leaves something. Like the bed of a river, the mind 
is being made by the deposits left by the passing 
stream of thoughts. Those streams that flow through 
mountains of gold leave golden sands, while those 
that come from marshes leave but slimy beds. 

Men will usually think right if set going right. 
The mind is naturally logical, — in fact is logic. The 
reason why many do not think better is because they 
have not good subjects to think on. Tou can not 
make good thoughts out of street - pickings. Tou 
must have a worthy topic to make worthy thought. 

2. —READING. 

In our reading especially, which largely gives us 
subjects of thought, we should carefully discriminate. 
What we take hold of with our mind chiefly depends 
on what books we take up. We surrender, in a meas- 
ure, the direction of our minds to our authors, who 
start thoughts for us. We should see that our books 



!!36 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

are leading us right, as well as that our companions 
are doing so. We must often change books, as we 
change conversation, in order to get the right 
subjects. 

The press is a great part of our circumstances, 
bringing the absent world near us to furnish sub- 
jects of thought; and we must choose our mental sur- 
roundings as well as our physical, all of which is done 
by knowing what to read. 

We should learn not to care for petty gossip, or 
" sensations," but for important topics chiefly. Those 
who go for the murder and scandal columns of a news- 
paper, go into bad company. We can create a morbid 
appetite for such things, or a serene indifference to 
them. The details of casualties are not worthy of 
strong minds; and the head-lines, announcing them, 
should be a warning rather than an invitation to read. 
The use we make of a newspaper has much to do with 
creating our taste, and, in fact, our whole mind. We 
can, by reading, get interested in foreign affairs as 
easily as in a dog-fight ; and the great problems of the 
day should always be part of our news. 

Much of modern morality consists in reading the 
newspaper right. One can enter a church, a legisla- 
tive chamber, a battle-field, or a brothel, without going 
outside of the morning paper ; and we should learn to 
keep good company in the newspaper, where most of 



HABIT-MAKING. 237 

us are living much of the time ; and in gathering the 
news we should learn to get something valuable. A 
man is largely made by what news he feeds on. Some 
who will admit filth into their minds in no other way, 
will take it in as news. 



V. 
HABIT-MAKING. 

One of the most important duties of self-control is 
habit-making, or the producing of the machine that is 
to make us; for we make ourselves wholesale by habit 
as well as retail by individual acts. By doing an act 
often, we come to do it automatically, so that instead 
of being a part of our work it becomes part of our- 
selves. We commonly work as much on ourselves as 
on our tasks, fashioning our minds by what we do. 
An act, like a man, wants to be parent of another, and 
there is a tendency in everything to multiply its kind. 
Doing creates a capacity to do, and so is its own prep- 
aration. It also creates a desire, and so is its own 
motive. It even creates a necessity, and so is its own 
fate. 

We thus weave a chain about ourselves, and create 
by our present career a future one. What we do now 
determines more than the work we are engaged at, 



238 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

and we all labor at future tasks. Acts pass into a 
tendency to act, effort into skill, and repetition into 
facility, so that what we do at first by calculation is 
done at last by habit. An acting man becomes an 
active man, and soon goes of himself. Labor gives an 
impulse for labor, and the first result of effort is repe- 
tition, so that one not only becomes a machine, but is 
set going by his conduct. Effort is cumulative, and if 
added to past effort accelerates results, since at each 
succeeding act we do not only what the new effort pro- 
duces, but what is transmitted over from the first. 

The act, therefore, which is at first hard becomes 
easy, then eager, and at last necessary, so that the 
habit which is at first difficult to make becomes at last 
impossible to resist. We go much by the force of 
past conduct. Our habits are thus turned into our 
nature, until we are at last hardly distinguishable 
from our acts. Men's deeds are constantly passing 
into their composition, and action becomes acting, 
effort becomes impulse, and volition becomes skill. 

We thus make ourselves by what we do, as well as 
by what we think, turning force as well as thought 
into mind, and taking our outward acts up into our- 
selves. We can not do anything often without want- 
ing often to do it, so that we become slaves to our 
repetition, and stick to our deeds as to our opinions. 
What we do not want to be we should not do. An act 



HABIT-MAKING. 239 

often entertained remains as the host, and no longer a 
guest. Lying often makes one a liar, drinking often 
makes one a drunkard, and repetition in general 
makes one a repeater, so that one should not do often 
what he ever wants to quit doing. 

We can make what habits we want, just as we can 
learn what trades we want. In fact, every habit 
represents a small apprenticeship served to conduct, so 
that as one who is a shoemaker can not well become a 
mason, one who has a habit can not take on another, 
especially a contradictory one. We should choose 
what we want to have a habit for, as well as what we 
want to do, and not let our habits, any more than our 
acts or thoughts, be the work of chance. In making 
yourself you need much calculation. By giving much 
attention to your habit you need give less to your 
work, since after a good habit is formed things 
go right of themselves. Making habits is preparing 
to go by machinery. A habit is a law of conduct 
worked up out of our individual acts, a law which, as 
it is learned by induction, is made by practice, in both 
cases induced from the individual efforts. 



CHAPTER TENTH. 

TEMPERANCE. 



I. 

IN GENEKAL. 

The chief subject for self-control is strong drink, 
which offers the greatest clanger to youth. This is 
because of the frequency of the temptation, the facil- 
ity for acquiring an appetite, the difficulty of getting 
rid of it, and the disaster of its continuance. 

Intemperance is the most deplorable of the vices, 
because it ruins most people, and ruins them most 
completely. There is scarcely a family in which it has 
not its wrecks; and whereas other vices generally 
leave their victims capable of rallying again and 
achieving some success, this is pretty sure to make 
life-wrecks. It is a vice which takes hold of the 
future, and every present spree has its after penalties. 
When one is known to drink, his friends are alarmed 
as they are for no other vice, since intemperance, 
while destroying, like all other vices, the moral charac- 
ter, destroys, unlike them, also the intellect and busi- 
ness capacity. One who falls before intemperance 

240 



TEMPERANCE. 241 

falls most completely, and falls without much hope of 
rising again. 

Intoxicants eat up the brain, so that the pleasure of 
drinking is mainly the pleasure of self-consumption. 
The tickling sensation of burning up, and sending 
the vital forces out, like our food, through the digestive 
channels is exhilarating for awhile; and this pleasure 
of self-destruction is what the drinker seeks. Unlike 
the food which we consume, alcohol consumes us ; for 
it starts our blood, and muscles, and particularly our 
nerves and brain, into a process of disintegration. The 
heat which it makes is not from any fuel which it 
brings, but from burning up the drinker himself. 
Every dram sets the drinker on fire. For whisky is 
fire, not fuel; the stomach and brain are the fuel. ^ 

It will be readily seen, therefore, how calamitous 
is drink. It does not leave, like other vices, the power 
of reformation; but, when it sets the passions in the 
wrong direction, it destroys the reason that is to recall 
them. It is a vice that goes all in one way. The will 
is carried along with the wreck, so that there is noth- 
ing to stop the fall. One drinking away his brains 
can not see that he is going until he is gone ; and when 
he sees his ruin his will no longer acts, so that he is 
helpless to save himself when perishing before his own 
eyes. 

The guilt of drunkenness lies in putting one's self 
16 



242 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

out of his own power, so that he is made to do what 
he does not want, and what he can not resist. It is 
the giving of his will over to passion, to be driven 
instead of to direct, and to a passion inflamed and set 
wrong, so that it can only rush to injury. But as one 
begins to drink when sober, and knows the possible 
results of intoxication, he is guilty, in beginning, of 
all that he does in continuing. No law excuses him 
on the ground of irresponsibility, or exempts him from 
punishment. One takes the consequences on his own 
conscience of putting himself in a condition to do noth- 
ing but crime ; and, when he wills to drink, he wills 
to drink notwithstanding the consequences. 

While drinking is most disastrous to self, it is a 
wrong also against others. The family of the drunk- 
ard suffers no less than himself ; and when he drinks 
it is a question of quarrels and bruises and poverty for 
them, as well as for himself. In drinking away one's 
fortune, he drinks away that of his wife and children ; 
in drinking away his own powers he drinks away their 
support ; and in making a pauper of himself he beggars 
them ; so that the question of whether he has a right 
to drink is a question of whether he has a right to 
drink his wife and children into the poor-house. The 
drunkard carries many responsibilities with him into 
the gutter. 
C Nor does his wrong end with his family. Intoxica- 



TEMPERANCE. 



243 



tion, being the usual cause of crime, is, perhaps, the 
greatest calamity known. Its offspring are murders, 
riots, licentiousness and every other crime. It is 
equally calamitous with war, destroying more people 
and more property. The drinker, therefore, and those 
who promote drunkenness, have to consider these re- 
sults when they drink or give to drink. ) The responsi- 
bility for intemperance ought to be felt deeply, and 
felt not by the drunkard, who is past feeling, but by 
one who commences to drink, or who invites to drink; 
since there is the only place of responsibility. The 
crimes of intemperance are all committed by sober 
men — when they start themselves or others on the 
career that is to irresistibly end in crime. 



IL 

MODERATE DRINKING. 

The responsibility for drunkenness must be met 
afar off, before the vice has taken away the sense of 
responsibility. One is not responsible when drunk, so 
that he must exercise the responsibility when sober; 
for none will say that there is no responsibility for 
intemperance. 

Nobody drinks to* become a drunkard. Every 
drunkard starts out to be a moderate drinker, and the 



244 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

danger is in this effort. After one has drunk to mod- 
eration the appetite usually helps itself; and the rest 
of the career of intoxication is accomplished without 
any intention whatever. He who aims at moderate 
drinking usually overshoots the mark. He puts him- 
self out of his power when he commences to drink, so 
that drunkenness is simply the result over of an effort 
to drink moderately. 

The wrong of drinking lies in its tendency to excess. 
It is an indulgence that craves to go on, and so is dan- 
gerous from the start. He who commences knows that 
he takes risks, with the chances, as in gambling, 
largely against him. Did he know that he would 
become a drunkard, he would doubtless not commence ; 
but he knows that he may become one, and, if he rea- 
sons candidly, that he probably will become one. He 
therefore takes risks against great odds, and risks his 
family as well as himself. 

To thus risk a life, and the happiness of several 
other lives, for a slight gratification, is the great- 
est of sins, as well as of follies. The moderate drinker 
is guilty of gross carelessness, at least, if not of mur- 
der. He who drinks moderately must take the conse- 
quences as well as he who drinks to excess, and the 
result is commonly the same — only a little farther off. 
In drinking one should look for consequences far 
ahead. 



MODERATE DRINKING. 245 

There is no excuse for drinking, inasmuch as there 
is no desire for it except in excess, and no pleasure in 
it except in injury. It is the intoxication that is 
wanted of intoxicants; so that there is no place for 
moderate drinking. To stop short of excess is only a 
tantalization that calls for more. As a harmless indul- 
gence drinking is a bore, and only as a danger is it a 
pleasure. Until one has an appetite liquor is distaste- 
ful, and after he has it, it is a passion ; so that he has 
no reason either to commence or continue. Those 
who drink moderately should not do so if they do not 
care for intoxicants, because it is simply to force down 
what is disagreeable; whereas if they like them there 
is still greater reason why they should not drink them, 
since it is already dangerous. Stimulants are never 
desired till they are dangerous ; and when you most 
want to drink is when you most ought not to. The 
right to drink is inversely as the desire. If there is a 
time when you can drink without wrong it is when you 
do not want to; and then it is a folly, and moreover it 
is then no sacrifice to refrain for the benefit of others. 
Those who like strong drink should not drink it, and 
those who do not have no reason to drink it. The 
misfortune about intoxicants is that they are all drunk 
by the wrong persons. 

One should not, however, think he is safe in drink- 
ing because he does not like to drink. All drunkards 



246 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

commence when they do not like it. The taste for 
alcohol is not natural, and every drunkard has to drink 
awhile against his taste. Dislike, however, quickly 
yields to practice, and is changed to passion before it 
is recognized as a taste. When you want to drink you 
should stop ; for thereby you will end a danger, whereas 
by stopping before, you would have ended a folly. 
Nothing grows faster than an appetite for drink, and 
it never grows backward. None acquire a less appe- 
tite by drinking more. Excess does not produce sur- 
feit, as in food ; but when you have too much you most 
want more. The less the need the greater the desire; 
and when the further use is fatal the habit is irresisti- 
ble. To stop one must stop when he is not yet in dan- 
ger ; since when it becomes imperative that he should 
quit, it becomes necessary that he should go on. 



III. 
TEACHING TO DEINK 

The responsibility of those who sell, treat and enter- 
tain with intoxicants can not be overestimated. They 
do the training for drunkenness. No one learns to 
drink till some one teaches him ; and it is not usually 
drunkards that train drunkards. The first glass is not 
bought because one wants a drink; it would be buying 



TEACHING TO DEINK. 247 

a pain instead of a pleasure. It is the parent who 
supplies it at the table, or the hostess who entertains 
at New Year, or the treating friend who instills the 
taste. The liquor dealer also does much in offering 
inducements to drink. These are the schoolmasters 
in vice ; and their responsibility is the greater because 
they take the youth before they have developed a will 
to resist. 

One is apt to think of his children or friends, as he 
does of himself, that they are not in danger. No 
drunkard ever thought, when commencing, that he 
would become an inebriate. This vice generally pro- 
gresses by deception, no danger being suspected until 
it is unavoidable. The most criminal work of intem- 
perance is done in changing a taste from dislike to 
liking, which is usually the work o£ others; and it is 
the more criminal because there is no reason for it. 
There are always many other things to enjoy which 
will serve all purposes of friendship and hospitality. It 
is no politeness to give one what he does not like, or 
to insist on his swallowing it when it is as disagreea- 
ble as medicine. 

Insisting is, in general, the culmination of folly, as 
as well as of vice, and good sense as well as morality 
should make it inconsistent with etiquette. Nothing 
is naturally more impolite than to urge, at the risk of 
ridicule, that one violate his pledge, his principle, or 



248 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

his sense of security, merely to gratify a host or friend 
vain of his wine. Everybody ought to know that 
many make it a matter of conscience not to drink, that 
others (who have reformed, perhaps) dare not drink 
on account of the danger, that others will not drink on 
account of the example, and that others for various 
reasons want to be let alone. There is no knowing 
what feelings one antagonizes when he offers intoxi- 
cants and insists on having them drunk, so that it 
ought to be regarded as impolite to promiscuously 
offer strong drink, and coarsely vulgar to insist on 
having it drunk. 

He who offers drink promiscuously has about as 
much sense as the madman who shoots into a crowd, 
and the host who furnishes his party table with wine 
has the judgment of the " didn't-know-it-was-loaded " 
imbecile. 



IV. 

PEOHIBITION. 

So great is the evil of intemperance, equaling, as 
we have said, that of war, that were it possible to 
remove it by legislation the severest laws would be 
justified against it. All the liberties that we should 
surrender by prohibition would be a small matter com- 



PROHIBITION. 249 

pared with the evils of intemperance. Whether or not 
prohibition can effect its purpose is another question, 
which practical sense must determine. But any meas- 
ures are justifiable that will end this vice, which 
transcends all others. No man's interest in strong 
drink is so great that all the youth of the country 
ought to be imperilled to save it to him. The state 
has a right, in time of danger, to make its citizens 
forego anything whose abandonment will contribute to 
the public safety, and no one ought to complain if he 
has to give up such a little privilege for so great an 
end. 

To say that a state should not legislate on intem- 
perance, would be as unwise as to say that it should 
not legislate on war, which, though no more serious 
than intemperance, has mainly occupied the attention 
of states. And as almost all rights of personal liberty 
must give way in war-time (as the writ of habeas cor- 
pus, for example), the little privilege of drinking and 
selling drink ought to be gladly yielded in the pres- 
ence of a greater evil. What measures are best to 
restrain or abolish intemperance we can not here dis- 
cuss; but the most effective ones are not too severe. 



250 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

V. 

OPIUM, COCAINE, ETC. 

There are other intoxicants besides strong drink, as 
opium, cocaine, chloral, and a variety o£ chemical 
compounds. Some of these are more violent than 
alcohol, and more rapid and deadly in their results, as 
well as more difficult to wean from, and the same rea- 
sons which we have cited against the use of alcohol 
will hold in greater strength against the use of these. 
There are various ways of burning up the brain, which 
give pleasure during the incineration, and one may 
have a choice of the methods of ruin by paying the 
penalty. 

These drugs should all be avoided and prohibited. 
No man has a right to destroy himself or others, or to 
put anybody on the way of destruction; and though 
the government should not establish a guardianship 
over sane men, a man is not very sane who wants to 
use these stimulants, and does not remain sane long 
after commencing them, so that the care of him is the 
care of a non compos. 

But whatever may be the right of the government 
in regard to adults, it is the duty of the government 
to protect the children. No man has a right to make 
an inebriate of his own child, or to put him in danger 



TOBACCO. 251 

of becoming one ; and when parents do not take the 
requisite care of minors, the state should do so. The 
use of these drugs is, in each case, a method of suicide, 
and those who promote it are guilty of murder. 



VI. 
TOBACCO. 



The use of tobacco is far less serious than of the 
drugs named, and it is not to be classed with that of 
alcoholic liquors. It is objectionable, however, if not 
actually dangerous ; and, as there are no good reasons 
for its use, it becomes a folly, if not a wrong, to 
indulge in it. It is an unnatural stimulant, whereas 
man needs no stimulant at all. Those who never learn 
its use never miss it, whereas those who do regret it. 
All that is gained in stimulant, moreover, is lost in the 
reaction, so that, as with strong drink, the exhilara- 
tion is followed by a corresponding depression. This 
unnatural consumption of your nerves is permanently 
injurious, as in drinking, although not as much so; 
and we should not waste ourselves for a good time now, 
when we must pay for it with a bad time in the future. 
A long-lasting health is worth more than a short-last- 
ing enjoyment. 

As the use of tobacco, moreover, is filthy and dis- 



252 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

figuring, rendering coarse one's manners, giving him 
a foul breath and making him disagreeable generally, 
he has no right to force these discomforts on a wife or 
friends, thereby making them suffer the disgust while 
he enjoys the pleasure of the habit. It is selfish and 
inconsiderate; and, inasmuch as there is no good 
derived from it, these are abundant reasons why it 
should not be indulged 



CHAPTER ELEVENTH. 

SELF-RESPECT. 



I. 

HONOR 



Self-respect, by which you think yourself too high to 
do anything low, is a security against many vices ; for 
most of the vices, being low, require degradation as 
well as guilt. 

We should lead all men in a high opinion of our- 
selves; since none will have a higher opinion of us 
then we make for them. By working our opinion of 
what we ought to be into what we become we will make 
it also the opinion of others about us, or work our ideal 
into our reputation. Our self-respect should be in 
advance, and form a motive, and not an after-thought, 
in the nature of a congratulation. It should prevent 
us from descending to the low, and not be merely an 
opinion that we are not low. 

He who thinks too highly of life to live meanly is 
not egotistic, but a lover of life, instead of self; and 
he asserts humanity rather than his own personality. 

To be ashamed of the low shows an exalted nature; 

253 



254 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

and self-respect, as long as it respects the virtues in 
you, and not the worthlessness, is itself a virtue. 

Honor presupposes many graces, of which it is 
itself the culmination. It is a grace built upon the 
virtues, and has too strong a foundation in morality to 
easily fall into vice. The honorable man is above 
wrong, as the pure man is remote from it; and his 
sense of greatness is his protection. One who can not 
descend to anything mean can be more relied on than 
if his virtue were in any other form. 

Nobility is thus both a virtue and a guard of virtue ; 
it is also a notice of virtue. One seldom tempts a 
high-minded man, which would be to attack a greater. 
To one with an exalted sense of honor vice comes as 
an insult rather than a temptation, and shrinks as if 
from a rebuff, rather than assaults as an aggressor. 

Virtue should be admired as well as esteemed, so 
that it can not be violated without a shock to the taste, 
as well as to the conscience. To the honorable man a 
stain is felt like a shame; and he revolts from the 
wrong as from the disgraceful. 

To be too dignified for the vices implies nearly all 
the virtues. One who can not stoop, except with 
grace, can hardly sin. The man of honor is awkward in 
vice, his dignity becoming stiffness. He can better do 
something better, and is at home only when he is 
right 



CHIVALRY. 255 

n. 

CHIVALKY. 

Honor shows itself in heroic conduct, and is natur- 
ally chivalrous. Taking up the cause of the wronged, 
it makes right manly, and, by creating a taste for 
unselfishness, pursues justice as naturally as vanity 
does fashion. In a world where so much happiness 
depends on gratuitous aid from the virtues, there is a 
demand for some contribution from refinement to 
relief. Honor supplies this in the form of chivalry, 
which is simply alms of grace instead of money. 

To bestow rights on men when oppressed, thereby 
giving justice as a gratuity, and busying yourself that 
men may not be wronged, is a great benevolence, since 
the interest of the helpless in the right is one of the 
largest interests of mankind. He, therefore, who 
takes up the cause of those needing heroes becomes 
heroic. 

To be a gentleman is no little attainment, since it 
implies so much in the making. Though busying 
itself with trifles, gentlemanliness is valuable from its 
very attention to those minute interests which, from 
their smallness, are apt to escape through the meshes 
of the great virtues. If minute in its attentions, 
moreover, it is correspondingly fine in its feelings. 



256 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

Great virtues are often unavailable because lacking 
the finish of a fine polish. Virtue as a gawk is not 
much more successful than attractive. Grace has 
demands upon it as well as strength, and the occasions 
are many where a gentleman is needed. The services 
of gallantry, moreover, are not trivial when taken all 
together, because they are so many as to be great from 
simply numbers. If, therefore, one polish his virtues, 
and not his manners only, and so give finish to his 
substantial conduct instead of his useless diversions, 
he becomes great by his elegance, and, in becoming a 
gentleman, becomes also a benefactor. 

It is not enough in life to be strong and bold. 
Boisterousness can not execute all the decrees of good- 
ness. Bluntness will not get admittance where gen- 
tleness can go. It is our duty to be refined not only 
in our feelings but in their expression. Love defeats 
its own end when it rides on an ox. The virtues are 
all called graces, grace being the manner of virtue. 



DIGNITY. 257 

m. 

DIGNITY. 

Dignity is the natural expression of nobility, which 
loves to show itself in a worthy appearance. The 
manly man acts and looks manly, as well as is so, his 
manner being in keeping with his character. The 
good naturally impresses, so that the man of worth is 
impressive. Honor coming out in one's varied expres- 
sions permeates his whole appearance, so that, like 
beauty, it attracts from the first, and like strength, 
soon rises to command. The dignified man, accord- 
ingly, gets attention from the start, which is often 
enough to make success in the end. 

If one's dignity be not real, but assumed, he soon 
falls back to his place ; for dishonor can not long main- 
tain the appearance of nobility. Meanness must show 
itself as well as honor, so that appearances are valua- 
ble only when true. As affected they are not perma- 
nent enough for influence; for affectation, besides 
showing itself through its bad acting (which produces 
disgust by appearing unnatural), soon wearies of an 
assumed part, and drops into its real character. 

But one whose dignity is backed by honor, so that 
he does not seem to have too much for his merit — 
which is pomposity — doubles his power by the def er- 
17 



258 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

ence he calls forth. Greatness seems greater when 
clothed with dignity, and manliness in becoming garb 
is magnificence. 



IV. 
PEIDE. 



A becoming pride is an advantage when it does not 
descend to vanity. To take a satisfaction in keeping 
within the virtues, and not merely within the fashions, 
is a worthy gratification, as also to take a lively inter- 
est in your abilities and not in your superficial accom- 
plishments. To dwell on that which may affect your 
conduct, and so get a love for traits that may result in 
good (which love may become your motive thereto), 
is to cultivate a virtue ; but to dwell on what is fixed 
and can not be changed by your thought (as your looks 
or birth), and with no other object than self-glorifica- 
tion, is to nourish a petty vice. To feel that you are 
too important to sin is not much of a vanity, or to be 
ashamed to come down (not to lowness, but) to mean 4 
ness. 

In caring for all other good appearances, you 
should care for them in yourself. When one does not 
care for his reputation, he is in a way to soon have no 
reputation to care for. Many are saved from vice by 



NEATNESS. 259 

feeling that they have something in themselves worth 
protecting. When you feel no responsibility for your 
character you lack one strong bond to virtue. 

To be proud then of something great and not small, 
and to be kept to such greatness by that pride, radi- 
cally differs from vanity, which is a great pride in 
small matters, and usually indifferent ones — dress, eti- 
quette or personal appearance. To be unduly elated 
over trifles is always petty, and, if they are your own 
trifles, is offensively vain. 



NEATNESS. 



Neatness, or attention to the minor details of ap- 
pearance, is a duty to others as well as to self. We 
owe to all men what will please them ; and order and 
tidiness are a pleasure to them, as well as to us. They 
go to make up men's opinion of us; and to convey a 
pleasant opinion is one of the amenities of life. It is 
as cruel to shock men with our slovenliness as with 
anything else ; and one should be hurt, at least as much 
as others, by his own repulsiveness. It is a duty to 
please by appearance, as well as by kindness. 

Do not add another therefore to the horrors of life 
by presenting yourself as a fright. Some see only 



260 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS, 

your clothes ; and while they are not a fit subject for 
much pride, they are important in avoiding shame. 
One who does not dress well is supposed to be defi- 
cient in either means, or taste or spirit; and while he 
can be excused for what he can not buy, there is no 
excuse for slovenliness when neatness is so cheap. 

Put yourself in order, then, and keep all about you 
neat, as being conducive to happiness and a cure 
for laziness. Neatness often passes for taste, and 
goes farther than wealth. The ordering of one's pos- 
sessions is frequently worth more than his possessions. 
A good housekeeper makes a pleasanter home than a 
rich one. Cost can not buy what management will 
accomplish. The duty of neatness stretches far into 
morals, as it does into happiness, it being the details 
of regulation, which is the expression of the most uni- 
versal law of nature — order. 



VI. 

CLEANLINESS. 

Cleanliness deserves a place among the virtues, 
since filthiness is so evidently a vice. Uncleanness is 
an assault against our taste, our health and our enjoy- 
ment generally. What we have said of our duty of 
appearing neat applies with greater force to our duty 



CLEANLINESS. 261 

of appearing clean. Nothing disgusts more than filth ; 
and the duty of not disgusting our neighbors should 
be recognized as fundamental. Filth of person, of 
dress and of home should be combattedwithconscienoo 
and soap. Nobody has a right to carry disgust with 
him, and spread unpleasantness where he goes. As 
cleanliness is a cheap virtue everybody should have it 
in perfection. The duty of bathing, scrubbing and 
dusting should be recognized, of cleaning halls and 
alleys, and of white-washing and disinfecting. Vermin 
and sewer gas are signs of immorality ; and it is some- 
body's duty to get rid of them, as it was somebody's 
to have prevented them. 

Cleanliness is not a duty, however, which we owe 
' to self only. The filth of cooks, grocers and manufact- 
urers of food affects the health and happiness of the 
people who eat after them, and the morals of the kitch- 
en and mill are by no means the least. Dirt seen dis- 
agrees with the appetite, as dirt unseen does with the 
digestion; and the assaults of slovenliness and lazi- 
ness in food-preparers on our happiness are seri- 
ous wrongs. Men would have more enjoyment if 
they could eat with more confidence; but the known 
filth produces a suspicion of much that is unknown. 

Uncleanness being the cause of much disease — 
cholera, diphtheria, typhoid fever and nearly all that 
is contagious — cleanliness becomes the great sanitary 



262 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

virtue. Dirtiness goes with poverty ; since one who is 
too lazy to wash is generally too lazy to work, and liv- 
ing in filth reconciles him to living in privation. Un- 
cleanness, like crime, accordingly flees to the alleys 
and garrets, and huddles with the other vices. To 
clean up would often bring industrial, as well as phys- 
ical health. One who keeps clean will not be content 
to remain long poor ; and often the first lesson in busi- 
ness thrift is to wash. Cleanliness is a virtue that 
goes hand in hand with Medicine and Political Econ- 
omy, as well as with Morals. 



VIL 
VICES ANTAGONISTIC. 

1.— MEANNESS. 

Opposed to the virtues of self-respect are several 
low vices, which are more the absence of virtue, how- 
ever, than any full measure of vice. They are* 



1. 


Meanness. 


2. 


Cowardice. 


3. 


Jealousy. 


4. 


Vulgarity. 


5. 


Morbidness 



These call out our disgust rather than our indigna- 



MEANNESS. 263 

tion, and are generally more detrimental to self than 
to others. They are commonly known as weaknesses, 
and proceed from some deficiency of character rather 
than excess of it, a deficiency, however, which it 
should be everybody's care to supply in the interest of 
self-respect. 

The most general of these, which is a common 
name for all, is meanness, which delights generally in 
the smaller vices, but takes to them so readily and 
accumulates so many of them, that the whole make 
considerable of an iniquity. It consists commonly in 
taking advantage of some weakness, is brave when 
there is no danger, fights with a smaller antagonist, 
attacks property when the owner is not about, and 
takes little disadvantages when men are off guard. It 
is more apt to steal than to rob, and to slander than to 
fight. Petty theft, and particularly sly theft, is its 
specialty. It takes to short weight, and stickles for 
the half cent of difference rather than the substance of 
a deal. It characterizes the man of detail in vice, who 
accumulates wickedness little by little. It makes vic- 
tims of laboring men, widows and children, especially 
when in distress and without power of resistance. It 
generally keeps within the law, or by very little viola- 
tions works great wrongs. Instead of boasting, it will 
make itself humble for an advantage, and take a kick 
for five cents. It will indifferently give or take an 



264 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

insult for gain, and would rather be a servant to get 
the wages than a master to pay them. Meanness, in 
short, is a foraging vice, picking up little advantages 
where, on account of their unimportance, they are left 
exposed, though it would just as soon be virtuous as 
vicious if it were thought as profitable. 

This is a vice which has no friends, and does not 
even have its own respect. It works mostly in the 
dark and on the sly, and denies what it does, or else 
asserts some higher motive for it. It crawls instead 
of walks erect, and peeps instead of looks you in the 
face. It can attach itself to any vice, and is a kind of 
menial among the vices — the hand-maid of theft, dis- 
honesty, sordidness, jealousy, and curiosity. It will 
work for any of them for pay, and even for a virtue, as 
we have said. It will, by attaching itself to a harm- 
less weakness like curiosity, make a very low vice by 
rendering it excessive or morbid. It makes even vir- 
tue disreputable by associating with it, as in searching 
out and exposing faults (for men can be mean in their 
denunciation of vice as well as in their practice of it. ) 
Meanness is never generous, but looks for meanness, 
and is suspicious and intolerant. Others' sins, espe- 
cially if against us, it exaggerates and dwells upon with 
all the pains of self-erosion, making them its own in 
all except their advantages. 

If one will try not to be mean, or in any respect to 



MEANNESS. 265 

be mean, he will attempt nearly all good; for, as nobil- 
ity implies most of the virtues, the vices nearly all 
run to meanness. As wrong is the letting down of the 
standard of conduct, its natural tendency is downward. 
A man can not be meanly virtuous, for when meanness 
takes hold of him virtue gets out of him. The appear- 
ance of it in him is mostly hypocrisy. A mean man's 
truthfulness or politeness is grudged by him, and all 
the virtues in him are in diminutive form. If one 
gets the meanness all out of him, he will be nearly 
all that is implied in the upright man. 

Little things should not impel or disturb you too 
much. Instead of doing your good for them, you 
should see that great considerations actuate your life. 
While details should be attended to, they should be 
the details of important matters, and go, when taken 
all together, to make up something weighty. Mean- 
ness takes to little things out of love for the small, or 
rather out of disinclination for the great. Hence it 
gets our contempt rather than our concern. 

That you should think of anything mean is bad 
enough, but to do it is to give your will, as well as 
your intellect, over to something too small for you. 
It is making yourself captive of something that is not 
worth even capturing. For meanness always gets the 
best of the man, instead of him getting the best of it; 



266 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

so that we say of one, he is mean, rather than that he 
has something mean. 

One is no higher than his lowest meanness, and 
when he gets down he is apt to stay down. Meanness 
has no inclination to rise, but loves a rat-hole in the 
floor rather than a sky-light in the roof. When you 
begin to go up you begin to go out of your meanness, 
whose natural course is down till it can get no lower. 

(2) — COWARDICE. 

Cowardice is commonly nothing but a recognition 
of one's meanness. When one has no confidence in 
himself — in his ability, his opinions, his character or 
his reputation — he is naturally afraid. He who is 
right, and doing right, has nothing to fear. He 
expects ultimately to triumph, as part of the confidence 
that the right will generally prevail. Doing his full 
duty he knows that his efforts will succeed, for they 
would not be his duty unless practicable ; and, inas- 
much as there is nothing disgraceful in duty, he has 
nothing of which to be ashamed. The right-doing man 
is, therefore, bold, and can afford to be. 

Only when one suspects he is wrong is he afraid. 
If he thinks his opinions are prejudiced, he naturally 
wants them not discussed, lest they be exposed. 
Meanness of judgment makes one an intellectual cow- 
ard. If one is accustomed to do mean things, and 



COWARDICE. 267 

does not want to be found out, be becomes timid from 
habit. Shame is always cowardly. The sly man has 
none of the boldness of the open one, who does every- 
thing with emphatic assertion. Wrong naturally makes 
one afraid; and habitual wrong so accustoms him to 
fear that even when he is right he is not courageous. 
Cowardice, therefore, implies meanness, if not at pres- 
ent at some past time, and is the fruit of shame. 

Hence, without knowing why, we dislike the cow- 
ard; and to call him by his appropriate name is to 
offer an insult. To prevent cowardice we must be 
habitually right; so that, as cowardice is the badge of 
shame, the brave man has a long ancestry of noble acts. 
We accordingly speak of noble birth as " free-born." 
Those whose ancestors never cringed are brave chil- 
dren, and those who never cringed in the past are 
brave now. 

But to be thus right, and conscious of the right, we 
must be prudent; for right does not come to one acci- 
dentally, but with thought. Before you can afford to 
be brave you must have taken a worthy stand. If you 
are wrong cowardliness is the most appropriate thing 
for you. The considerate man can afford to be brave, 
because he knows what he is standing for, and what 
grounds he has to expect success. Courage does not 
support itself on ignorance or inconsideration ; but it 
has been reasoned out; and he who habitually decides 



268 THE VIETUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

well becomes brave from habit, as the other becomes 
cowardly from habit. Courage has something to rest 
on; and indecision is cowardice because it has not. If 
one does not know but that his position is foolish, he 
can not have much confidence in maintaining it. A 
fool is necessarily a coward, whereas judgment is an 
indispensable part of valor. To be courageous with- 
out discretion is foolhardiness, which soon ends itself. 
Courage without common sense can not last long enough 
for use. A virtue can not live with a folly, any more 
than with a vice, and can not be supported on nonsense. 
The wise are, therefore, more courageous than the fool- 
ish, just as the good are more so than the bad. 

Cowardice at once bespeaks your inferiority. You 
are thereby afraid of somebody or something which 
you recognize as too much for you. This is extremely 
demoralizing, as unnerving you for life's struggles, 
for which you need confidence. Fear is the vice of 
inferiority; and to be afraid of your equals is to 
bespeak some moral deficiency. One who carries about 
with him the constant impression that something is 
greater than himself, can not be much of a man. He 
should habituate himself to companionship with 
nature as an equal in rank, and not to servitude as an 
inferior; for men may be cowards toward nature as 
well as toward men, and be afraid of everything about 



JEALOUSY. 269 

them — of forces, elements and common events — of the 
future and of the unknown. 

One should come up to, and keep abreast of, the 
laws of the world — in intelligence to know them, and 
in will-power to cooperate with them. He who is well 
acquainted with nature, like him who is well acquainted 
with men, is not afraid of it; but ignorance only is 
cowardice, being, like vice, a weakness. The untaught 
savage who fears the winds and flight of birds, and 
sees omens of dread, does so because he knows not the 
laws by which such things are produced. He fears as 
an inferior, instead of confides as an acquaintance. 
He who has confidence in nature, as one who knows 
and lives up to its principles (in a kind of high life of 
nature), will have no fear for the future anymore than 
for the present. But to feel yourself beneath it, and 
beneath its requirements, is to make yourself a natural 
menial, full of apprehensions, as if everything were 
above you and more powerful than you, and were 
unfavorably disposed toward you. 

3. — JEALOUSY. 

Jealousy is more a lack of confidence in self than 
in others. Mistrusting your powers to hold the affec- 
tions of a wife or lover, you fear a rival. Mistrusting 
your abilities as a politician or tradesman, you fear a 
competitor. Conscious of some inferiority, you expect 



270 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

in general another to out-distance you, so that jeal- 
ousy is a form of cowardice. 

Like all other meanness, it is most disagreeable as 
well as belittling, and should not be exercised without 
cause, as it usually is, for lack of confidence in self 
produces lack of confidence in others. When you mis- 
trust your own powers you mistrust others' faithful- 
ness, which is supposed to depend on them, for none 
are as apt to be faithful to an unworthy as to a worthy 
person. Jealousy, accordingly, produces unfaithful- 
ness, and so is its own cause; for when one has no 
confidence in himself he can not expect to retain the 
respect of others, and when he has not their respect 
he can not get their following or their love. One does 
not like to rely on one who can not confidently rely on 
himself. 

The jealous man carries incipient wrongs about 
him, and besides starting them against himself, suf- 
fers them before they happen. He also suffers many 
that never happen at all. When one is his own 
injurer as well as sufferer, he has few chances for hap- 
piness. One can not be mean and enjoy himself. 
Meanness begets fears of meanness, and being accus- 
tomed to injure others, one comes habitually to expect 
others to injure him. He is thus on guard against his 
fellow-men, like pickets who are ready both to attack 
and resist. The jealous man has declared a state of 



JEALOUSY. 271 

war. As you injure another when you wrongfully sus- 
pect unfaithfulness in him, you naturally expect to be 
injured by such, and in this battle with unhappiness 
you will generally be worsted. He who challenges his 
own fears for a fight, arms his enemy and surrenders 
before he begins. 

To have peace with yourself or others you must be 
liberal, neither expecting nor etisily seeing cause for 
jealousy, nor being much moved by it. You will thus 
escape injuries before they happen and injuries that do 
not exist, and will not be so apt to evoke injuries out 
of little offenses, or exaggerate real wrongs into 
greater ones, or a few into many. We should at least 
be sure we see before we suffer a wrong, and have a 
cause for our unhappiness before we entertain it. 

He who is always looking for offenses will create 
more than he will find, and will suffer them whether 
he finds them or not; for to suspect is about as painful 
as to discover, and the jealous person is equally 
unhappy whether he have cause for his jealousy or 
not. By showing one's self manly he will do more to 
keep the affections of a loved one than by searching 
for evidences of her lack of affection. The search for 
unhappiness is about as disagreeable as the finding of 
it, and is the sport that least pays. 

He who trusts others can confide in himself, and 
though he may deprive himself of the privilege of suf- 



272 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

fering some wrong that actually exists, he who is jeal- 
ous is sure to suffer the wrong suspected, whether it 
exists or not. The generous man's loss is simply the 
escape from some real wrongs, whereas the jealous 
man's gain is the suffering of some imaginary ones. 

Jealousy adds fear to uncertainty, and if all the 
unknown is to distress us we can have little hope of 
happiness in this world of ignorance. Put not more 
confidence in others' weakness than in your own 
power, and let not the stronger be distresssed by the 
weaker. Be sure you are wronged before you feel 
injured, and do not suffer things that are not true. 

4. — VULGARITY. 

(1). — Coarseness. 

Vulgarity is naturally offensive. Even the vulgar 
like something better in others, and are disgusted with 
their kind. Long after men have lost their dignity 
they appreciate it, and often the more so because of its 
loss, as health seems most valuable to those who no 
longer have it. None love the unrefined, and where 
one with vulgarity is popular it is not because of his 
vulgarity, but of some virtue which has survived it. 
The vulgar themselves appreciate something better 
than themselves, and want to look up. There is a 
painful sense of incongruity in the great man's obscen- 



PROFANITY. 273 

ity or buffoonery, and even the lowest pity a good man 
who sinks to their level. 

Nor has one any occasion to be vulgar. Refine- 
ment of demeanor and language secures all for which 
vulgarity is assumed, so that it is a vice without a 
motive. One can easily accustom himself to elegance, 
which is then as attractive to self as to others. 

(2) — Profanity. 

Profanity is the most offensive sort of vulgarity, 
and, being without motive, is the most senseless. For 
while the other vices have their temptation, this pro- 
ceeds on simply the force of its foolishness. Whereas 
he who steals expects something for his theft, namely, 
what he takes, and he who lies expects something for 
his lying, namely, the false impression which he is 
interested in conveying, and he who gets drunk ex- 
pects something from his drunkenness, namely, the 
pleasure of intoxication, the man who swears expects 
nothing, and gets nothing — neither money, pleasure 
nor reputation. Profanity is a vice which has no con- 
sideration, good or bad, selfish or otherwise; it satis- 
fies neither kindness, vanity nor ambition; it gratifies 
no appetite or passion ; but it might be omitted without 
any sense of loss whatever. 

But while profanity is thus without any reason for 
being, even as a vice, there are many reasons why it 

28 



274 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS- 

should not be. Being offensive to many it is always 
indulged, like obscenity, at the risk of evoking dis- 
gust. Most persons, regarding it as serious, set a low 
estimate on those who indulge in it, and, thinking that 
they themselves deem it wrong, believe they will com- 
mit other wrongs ; for he who deliberately violates his 
conscience in one matter is presumed to be willing to 
do so in another. The profane man, therefore, adver- 
tises his own immorality; and he who does this indis- 
criminately gives himself unwittingly a bad name. 
For profanity, unlike other vices, is its own proclama- 
tion ; since he who swears not only commits the vice, 
but tells it in the act, the offense consisting in the 
utterance. It is not a fault, therefore, that can be 
hid; so that, while it is without reason, it is without 
concealment 

It is not, however, a question for ourselves only 
whether we will swear, but one of consideration for 
others. Since it is so offensive to many, we have no 
right to annoy them, even if we are willing to undergo 
the disgrace; just as we have no right to indecently 
expose ourselves even if we are indifferent to the 
shame. Others' ears, like their eyes, have some rights ; 
and everyone is entitled to exemption from disgust. 
Ladies especially are entitled to this protection, and 
are so deemed; although some men are as refined and 



SLANG. 275 

sensitive as women, and these find this vice just as 
offensive. 

(3)— Slang. 

Slang, though no great vice, is objectionable as 
low; for nobility requires dignity of language as well 
as of conduct and appearance. To many slang is of- 
fensive, and one never knows whether his low talk is 
not disgusting. While he may think it expressive, he 
should remember that those who hear it may not. This 
expressiveness is felt only at first; and what is new to 
you may be old to your hearer. One using slang runs 
the perpetual risk of repeating something stale; and, 
since it spreads in sections, and soon spoils (so that 
when in vogue in one place it is out of style elsewhere), 
one generally thinks he is funny when he is only offen- 
sive. 

There is this further objection to slang, that it dis- 
qualifies for facility in elegance of speech. To one 
accustomed to its use it often comes first in mind when 
he wants good language, as a mule comes first to the 
bars when a horse is wanted ; so that one must repeat- 
edly try before he gets the right word, which is special- 
ly embarassing in writing and public speaking, where 
there is no time for delay. We should not accustom 
ourselves to words that can not be used when we most 
need words. Education in conversation and literature 
requires a ready use of the right terms, so that the 



276 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

indulgence of slang is an antidote to education tend- 
ing to disability. 

5.— MORBIDNESS. 

The most disgusting form of lowness is morbidness, 
or the desire to dwell on the unnatural. Health of 
feeling is as important as health of mind. As it is 
best to love the good, it is best to love the natural. 
The desire to see the dead, read of accidents, or dwell 
on crimes is a sickness of feeling that needs cure. 

The weakness that most runs to this vice is curios- 
ity, which gossips on the secrets of our neighbors and 
exposes their afflictions. We should give no more 
attention to the misfortunes of others than is neces- 
sary to help them, and say no more about them than 
is necessary to procure further help. Charity does 
not require us to learn what they do not want known, 
or to make public what the interest of the public re- 
quires to be kept private. To fix the eye on a cripple, 
to turn to look at a deformity, or to call attention to a 
fault is to aggravate the evil. Persons with misfort- 
unes do not want them noticed, which is a very little favor 
for us to grant. It is almost as important not to know 
what should be unknown, as to know the proper mat- 
ters of knowledge. Ignorance is the best thing we can 
accord to some people; who ask as the first thing that 
we do not know their misfortunes, as a second that we 



MORBIDNESS. 277 

do not think of them, and as a third that we do not 
speak of them. 

But, apart from the wrong done to others by mor- 
bidness, it is a serious degradation to self. To have 
the mind run off, without control, to the disgusting — 
to dive for the low and feed on the low — is to disqual- 
ify for all exalted thought. Nothing is farther from 
the artistic, the refined or the "proper" than such 
conduct, the morbid man being always out of place. 

We should see, then, that what we like to dwell on 
is natural and healthy; and to acquire this health of 
inclination we should recall our minds from all unnat- 
ural subjects, and check them as soon as they incline to 
such. The thought of the morbid tends to unnatural 
crimes and abuses — to suicide, insanity and crimes 
against nature, the tendency being to do what one 
likes to think about. Men's food is transmuted into 
their acts ; and good conduct must have healthy intel- 
lectual and moral diet. He who feeds on the stews of 
the slums will make matter for the slums. 



CHAPTER TWELFTH. 

PURITY. 



Elevation of thought and aspiration is the greatest 
security alike for morality and happiness, furnishing, 
as it does, a worthy aim and worthy efforts to attain it. 

Purity, accordingly, like every other virtue, is its own 
reward, and its violation its own punishment ; although 
the benefits and the penalties, being both subtile, are 
apt to escape recognition. The impure can never ade- 
quately know the advantages of virtue, though they 
must painfully become acquainted with the disadvan- 
tages of vice. Incontinence is an indulgence whose 
gratification \% short, and whose repentance is long — 
and often hopeless — so that it has no motive in reason, 
but only in passion. None ever remain virtuous who 
regret it, or become impure who do not, the regret 
often strengthening into agony. 

The obligations to purity are sufficiently obvious 
from a glance at the results of incontinence — as the 
disgrace of its victims, generally leading to ruin, the 
lowering of the moral tone which leads to other crimes, 
and the impairing of confidence and spreading of gen- 
eral suspicion, 

278 



PURITY. 279 

Purity is an easy virtue, as its opposite is an easy 
vice, proceeding automatically when thoroughly 
grounded. It rarely meets a temptation or is much 
disturbed by it, just as impurity is rarely exempt from 
one; for each seeks its kind, and is propagated by its 
exercise. 

To the exalted mind the impure is as repulsive as 
the deformed, and, instead of furnishing a temptation, 
gives a shock. The less one thinks of it the less he 
is tempted, and, as the pure are averse to thinking of 
it, virtue furnishes its own protection. The tendency 
to think of the impure is itself impure, and leads to 
further impurity. The interests of virtue do not re- 
quire that men think much of unchastity, the first rule 
of the upright man being to give it no more attention 
than is necessary. The whole subject is one which 
we can afford not to think about, ignorance being less 
of a weakness than knowledge. As thought soon turns 
to feeling, and feeling to conduct, the parodox of purity 
is that the less you entertain it the more you have it, 
it excluding its own consideration. 

The question of purity is, therefore, one of what we 
shall think about. We can not be pure on bad sub- 
jects, but only pure from them, nothing being easier 
than to keep virtuous when the mind is not on vice, or 
harder when it is. Mind will go down hill as fast as 



280 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

matter; and to keep going up you must keep turned 
upward. 

Purity is not, however, a negative virtue, practiced 
by merely trying to avoid vice. To think of vice suf- 
ficiently for such effort is itself a temptation. Purity 
is maintained best by thinking of something else, which 
thought, through grappling with greater subjects, 
strengthens the mind against vice, as well as produces 
results of its own. Occupation, therefore, and espe- 
cially mental occupation, is necessary for purity, it 
being hard to be idly virtuous. While the busy think 
little of vice, and have little feeling of a kind that 
temptation can take hold of, the idle generally think 
of this vice first ; so that they who " have nothing to 
do " proverbially support licentiousness. 

The evils of impurity resulting to self are about as 
obvious as those resulting to others. The breaking 
down of the mind, disqualifying it for strong work, the 
like enervation of the body predisposing it to disease, 
the blunting of conscience, fatal alike to clearness of 
thought and energy of will, the conviction perpetually 
carried about of personal degradation, and the sneak- 
ing habit acquired through a general sense of mean- 
ness (or else a brazen shamelessness like that of the 
courtesan), go far to undermine both character and 
success. 

When one can not live the life he is recommending, 



PUKITY. 281 

but is himself at variance with the law which he would 
have universal, he is fatally divided against himself. 
One can not maintain his self-respect on inconsistency, 
or be widely useful when perpetually conscious of 
insincerity. The man who is an outlaw against his 
own opinions has no support for any virtue. 

The most serious injury to self, however, is in the 
damage to one's affections. None but the pure can 
know the full pleasures of love. Love is as jealous as 
lovers, and will not dwell with an unlawful rival. 
While the virtues and vices generally will not mix, 
love and licentiousness specially neutralize each other. 
All feeling given to vice is taken from the pleasure of 
virtue. As the source of most happiness and of the 
intensest happiness, love must be kept pure to con- 
tinue long or strong. Divided it becomes weak, and 
finally dies; so that the acts of love, which are fed 
with such fervor in courtship, become through unfaith- 
fulness burdensome in marriage, and generally disap- 
pear through disinclination. 

The impure thus fail to get the greatest enjoyment 
out of the chief pleasure of life, and early end that 
pleasure, so that unfaithfulness is as injurious to the 
faithless as to the wronged. When you cease to love 
your wife you are as much damaged as she, being 
doomed to a loveless marriage, which is its own pun- 
ishment. It is as important to keep your love as your 



282 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

health, and one who for a short indulgence sells a long 
bliss makes a bad bargain with sin. By exclusive devo- 
tion and the limitless trust ensuing, one may love to 
old age a wife with the love of a suitor, which is the 
guarantee of permanent happiness. 



CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. 

CONSCIENTIOUSNESS. 



IN GENEKAL. 

The most general rule of morality is to do what 
you believe right and good, and to preserve the per- 
petual consciousness of this by instantly performing 
your duty when seen. Goodness is simple when thus 
reduced to one rule. For you have but to look at 
your conscience to see your duty, conscience being the 
sense of what we ought to do which results from all 
our thought and information on the subject. 

Though conscience may err, it is the best judgment 
we have — the pointing of the compass after all the 
conflicting forces which would diversely impel us, and 
so the coming of our knowledge to a head in the will. 
If we go wrong by following it, then wrong is inevita- 
ble, and any other course would still more likely be 
wrong. If the result is not good, it is the best we can 
have. For, going by conscience, we simply go on our 
best information. 

283 



284 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

Though something else may be taken for con- 
science, and conscience be persuaded off its guard or 
enlisted for whims, it generally corrects such impres- 
sions of itself, and leads to its own interpretation as 
well as its own observance. If one faithfully follows 
it, it will faithfully lead him. Its mistakes generally 
come from its violation, though the mistake of to-day 
may result from some past violation. Conscience, to 
be reliable, must be obeyed when it acts, and not after 
disobedience has made embarrassments for the future. 
We can not do right to-day on yesterday's wrongs, so 
that men should often straighten out their conscience 
to get its legitimate indications. 

It is important, then, in taking conscience as a 
guide, to have it in working order. For this it must 
be often exercised, and exercised against difficulties, as 
well as with inclination. It demands obedience as the 
condition of its commanding, and when you often dis- 
obey it becomes as wayward as your will. To make it 
work easily you must obey it easily, a few violations 
producing a state of anarchy. 

One can not be conscientious by spells. The con- 
scientious man is always conscientious ; and conscience 
is worth little unless strong enough to enforce general 
observance. The nearer perfection it comes the faster 
it grows, and when it reaches the point where it never 
fails, it is never assaulted. The entirely conscientious 



CONSCIENTIOUSNESS. 28 5 

man is, accordingly, the entirely happy one, since con- 
science and desire then become identified, as also 
judgment and will. 

The most general rule of morality, therefore, we 
say, is to strictly follow conscience, and, to this end, to 
acquire the habit of entire obedience to it. To follow 
conscience is the sum of all rules; to follow it at each 
moment is the sum of all duties at the time ; and to want 
to do so is to have the most perfect character attain- 
able. Observing this rule, we may ignore all others, 
since it includes them, it being the most comprehen- 
sive rule as well as the most simple, and the most 
practical as well as the most philosophic. 

Duty is least irksome when thus done scrupulously. 
It is easiest to do right if we do it all, our whole 
duty being lighter than a part, because infusing the 
enthusiasm of duty By resolving to do all that we 
should do, we relieve ourselves, on each special occa- 
sion, of deciding whether we shall do our duty. It is 
usually harder to get one's consent to not do a part 
than to do all. The little that a good man can knock 
off from duty to make it easier, is not worth the effort 
to so reduce it. The best way out of a disagreeable 
duty is to do it, going through being easier than 
going round. 

One who does his whole duty, moreover, does it as 
a whole man, and so has more strength than if half of 



286 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

him were expended in sacrificing a part. He who 
comes to a great task comes to it as more of a man 
than he who comes to a part, so that it is relatively 
easier to do more than to do less. The task is lightest 
when you bring a great soul to it; and when one has 
his entire integrity he is greater than any duty. 

One should, therefore, see that he stands his full 
height in morals, and preserves himself a man entire 
for his tasks. When you are greater than your 
duties, your duties seem easy; and when you are 
better than your duties, your duties seem pleasant. 
Tou thus master your duties and your aversion to 
them at once; so that entire conscientiousness is duty 
made easy. 



II. 
INTEGEITY. 



For such conscientiousness it is important to have 
never gone wrong. It is easier to keep pure than to 
make one's self so after defilement. Till one has 
sinned, it is hard to commence ; but, having begun, it 
is easy to continue, a little more seeming a trifle to 
one already astray. The first sin must, therefore, be 
guarded against, and one sin. To be wholly virtuous is 
to have a guard for your whole virtue. For a stainless 



INTEGRITY. 287 

character always seems worth preserving, while one 
partly gone may not. 

This spotlessness, moreover, while a protection 
against particular wrongs, as impurity and dishonesty, 
specially protects against all, there being a greater 
satisfaction in keeping from every sin, and greater 
facility in uniformity of conduct. When all sins are 
grouped, we can resist them at once; and, when secure 
from all, we are not in danger from any. We may 
thus be good in bulk, and, by avoiding all wrong, escape 
each particular wrong, which is easiest, as we have 
seen, because we have thus but one resolution to 
keep, and one temptation to meet ; the whole being 
done by simply following conscience, which shuts out 
the first offense. 

For, as we can not commit a second wrong till we 
have done the first, if the first is excluded the rest are 
shut out, one at a time being all the wrong we need 
avoid. We should, therefore, resist the beginnings 
of wrong, and, by keeping out entering wedges, make 
ourselves impervious to assaults. 

While, in a long life, all must have sinned, so that 
when each comes to consider this question, he has 
already entered upon wrong, he can yet, at any time, 
quit, and, by opening a new record, keep a clean char- 
acter thereafter. Many thus date their moral career 
from the present, and, renouncing their past, keep 



288 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

with equal pride their integrity for the future. It is 
a great privilege to have this chance of a new begin- 
ning, which, started with resolution, may be con- 
tinued with enthusiasm. 

For, though it is better to have never lied than to 
quit lying, it is a good record, if, for ten years, one has 
not lied; and though it inspires more confidence to 
have never defrauded, than if, having done so, one 
reforms, yet he is deemed essentially honest who, for 
ten years, has never been dishonest. But for these 
new characters, founded on ruined ones, there must be 
a great start, and great patience to maintain it. Much 
practice is needed in scrupulously obeying conscience 
to get the habit of obeying it automatically, which is 
having a character to do so. 



m. 

SCKTJPTJLOUSNESS. 

For such a close pursuit of right we must scrupu- 
lously discriminate. Many wrongs are little wrongs ; 
but, as conscience declares against them, we must, to 
be conscientious, avoid them also. For our security is 
in violating in no respect our conscience. He who 
commits small wrongs, which are numerous, so habitu- 
ates himself to violate conscience, that he is not ready 



SCRUPULOUSNESS. 289 

to obey it in great matters. For it is conduct in the 
many cases of conscience that makes character for con- 
scientiousness ; and, if we habitually disobey, we will 
have no conscience for the special occasions. 

And further, if we do not commit small wrongs we 
will not commit greater ones; for he who is careful 
about the least offense, is not apt to be negligent about 
a greater ; and he who is so conscientious that he can 
quickly see a little wrong, will not be so obtuse that 
he can not see a larger one; so that the scrupulous 
avoidance of small offenses is a protection against 
great ones. We can, indeed, often fortify against all 
wrong by parrying little wrongs, thereby never 
meeting the assaults of great temptations. As the 
good man is habitually free from temptation his good- 
ness becomes at last easy to him. 

"We should, therefore, guard against little wrongs 
as standing at the door of all wrongs, whose commis- 
sion opens and whose resistance shuts the door ; and 
should resist them for the further reason that, if wrongs 
at all, they are great wrongs, the fact that they are 
wrong being important, and not the fact that they are 
more or less so. A little wrong makes one a wrong- 
doer, which is a material compromise of his character ; 
and what is powerful enough for this is not little in 
morals. 



290 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

IV. 

AETIFIOIAL DUTIES. 

To have a clear conscience, however, as well as to 
live sensibly in morals, we should guard against believ- 
ing things wrong which are indifferent, and keeping 
observances which are valueless. Many people'? 
goodness consists in avoiding sins which are not sins, 
and doing duties which are not duties. Such persons 
needlessly forego many enjoyments, and fritter away 
their strength on trifles. Morality is always substan- 
tial; and one of our first duties is to have sensible 
views of duty. We can not make arbitrary rights and 
keep good by observing them. We may, indeed, get 
conscience to work on such things, although it is diffi- 
cult, conscience being generally sensible; so that what 
we call conscienc is often only bigotry or prejudica 

In the insane or weak, conscience may, indeed, im- 
pose whimsical duties, so that it sometimes gets a bad 
name through enforcing a senseless morality ; for con- 
science is no security to a fool against his folly. In 
the interest of virtue one should avoid justifying silly 
things by conscience, and, in following it, learn not tG 
sin. Inspect your conscience as well as your observ- 
ance of it; or, rather, look after your views of right, 
as well as your conformity thereto; and do not expec, 



ARTIFICIAL DUTIES. 291 

to get along in morals on less sense than in busi- 
ness. 

Those who assume arbitrary duties must often vio- 
late their conscience through the very multitude of their 
scruples, which violation, becoming habitual, disables 
conscience for real duties. One can not do much that 
is not right for right and have strength left to do the 
right for right. Do not habituate yourself, therefore, 
to do wrong by having so many foolish things for 
right that every time you are sensible, you are in dan- 
ger of violating your conscience. For one who is silly 
when right is apt to be guilty when reasonable. 

For he who violates his conscience when not doing 
wrong, accustoms himself to violation as much ao if 
he were doing wrong, so that he will more likely vio- 
late it in cases of real wrong than if he reserved his 
conscience for only the matters of conscience. One 
can not support a conscience long on error, but he who 
uses it up in nonsense has no more left than he whf< 
uses up his intellect in nonsensa 



292 THE VIRTUES ANE THEIR REASONS. 

V. 

CONFLICTING DUTIES. 

Duties rarely conflict, though they often seem to, 
especially if we include the artificial ones just men- 
tioned. Nothing is duty which can not be clearly 
done, duty being that course which, in view of all the 
circumstances, is best. The considerations may con- 
flict, one interest impelling one way and another a dif- 
ferent way. But while in the necessity of choosing 
one good we must often forego another, duty is indi- 
cated by the preponderance of interests, which, when 
learned, makes conscience clear. 

It is sometimes difficult, indeed, to learn this, and so 
to determine duty, so that the knowledge of right is not 
always without effort. We must work hard to know 
our duty, as well as to do it, which labor then becomes 
part of our duty. But when we once decide what is 
best, conscience takes it up, as common sense does in 
all practical matters, conscience being the common 
sense of ethics. 

We may thus know, or at least pursue, our duty 
amid conflicting considerations, conscience going 
beyond thought in pointing out the way (which is not, 
however, irrational, but only unrecognized reason), so 



CONFLICTING DUTIES. 293 

that no practical difficulty arises from conflicting 
duties any more than theoretical difficulty. 

Every man may know his duty who wants to do it. 
Like other wise courses, it is often found by doing it, 
and the more you go ahead the more you find it clear. 
Duty done reveals duty to be done, and often the best 
way to know is to do, effort being an educator as well 
as thought. The will reveals many truths which the 
intellect can not discover. He who starts out makes 
the way clear behind him. A duty need rarely be 
known till reached, and then it is conspicuous. Noth- 
ing so easily yields to us as a knowledge of our duty, 
when we are doing our duty. 

The alleged conflicts of duties are usually where 
one or more of the "duties" are of the artificial kind 
just mentioned. By creating arbitrary duties we of 
course get some to conflict, especially if we accept 
somebody else's views of duty, as most do who take 
indifferent matters for right and wrong (for they 
rarely rely on their own judgment for their mistakes). 
By admitting nonsense into morality men can no more 
have consistency in their thought than in their con- 
duct. For, hard as it is to prevent sense from con- 
flicting, it is hopelessly impossible to keep nonsense 
reconciled; so that those who distress themselves by 
observing trivial things for right and wrong, embar- 
rass themselves still more by trying to harmonize 



294 THE VIRTUES AND THEIR REASONS. 

them. Before troubling yourself about conflicts of 
duties, see that they are duties, and do not set con- 
science at work on whims. 

He who considers his duties with common sense, 
will find them consistent with practical performance. 
As nothing is duty but what is rational, and as reason 
does not conflict with itself, there is no antagonism of 
obligations to the earnest thinker. Real duty is as 
rational to think as it is profitable to do. Ethics and 
logic are thoroughly reconcilable, as well as duty and 
interest, there being no duty to believe anything fool- 
ish any more than to do anything disadvantageous. 
If one does not require all his senses to be good, it at 
least does not help him to be nonsensical. As ethics 
is wisdom in living, it is no less reason in thinking. 



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Catullus. 

Cicero's Brutus. 

Cicero's Defense of Roscius. 

Cicero De Officiis. 

Cicero On Old Age and Friendship. 

Cicero On Oratory. 

Cicero On The Nature of The Gods. 

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Ua 


m 


1$ on manners 

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By Julia M, Dewey 


Author of 


" How to Teach Manners " and " Ethics for 
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List of Contents 


Lesson 


I- 


-Manners in General. 


Lesson 


II- 


-Manners at Home. 


Lesson 


III- 


-Manners at School. 


Lesson 


IV- 


-Manners on the Street. 


Lesson 


V- 


-Manners at the Table. 


Lesson 


VI- 


-Manners in Society. 


Lesson 


VII- 


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Lesson VIII- 


-Manners Toward the Aged. 


Lesson 


IX- 


-Manners at Places of Amusement. 


Lesson 


X- 


-Manners in Traveling. 


Lesson 


XI- 


-Manners in Places of Business. 


Lesson 


XII- 


-Manners in Making and Receiving 

Gifts. 


Lesson XIII- 


-Manners in Borrowing. 


Lesson XIV- 


-Manners in Correspondence. 


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Manners in 
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Lessons on morals 

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and Academies 

By Julia M* Dewey 

Author of " How to Teach Manners " and * Bthics for 
Home and School." 



Cloth, jo4pages. 



Price, 75 cents. 



List of Contents 



Lesson I — The Study of 
Morals. 

Lesson II — Duties to 
the Body. 

Lesson III — Cleanli- 
ness. 

Lesson IV — Dress and 
Surroundings. 

Lesson V — E x e r c i s e, 
Recreation, etc. 

Lesson VI — Industry. 

Lesson VII — Economy. 

Lesson VIII — Honesty. 

Lesson IX— T r u t h f ul- 
ness. 

Lesson X — Time. 

Lesson XI — Order. 

Lesson XII — Courage. 

Lesson XIII — Love. 



Lesson XIV — Benevo- 
lence. 

Lesson XV — F orgive- 
ne ss. 

Lesson XVI — Kindness. 

Lesson XVII — Kind- 
ness to Animals. 

Lesson XVIII — Friends 

Lesson XIX — The 
Home. 

Lesson XX — The School 

Lesson XXI — The Com- 
munity. 

Lesson XXII — The 
State. 

Lesson XXIII— Self 
Culture. 

Lesson XXIV — Nature. 

Lesson XXV— Art 

Lesson XXVI — Reading 



Price for introduction, 60 cents. Will take other works on 
Morals in exchange, and make a generous allowance for them. 

Hinds & Noble, Publishers 
31-33-35 West J5th St. New York City 



Appropriating a Classic 

Having read a book, are you prepared to declare 
that you have made it really your own? Can you 
discuss it or write about it in a thoroughly intelli- 
gent and comprehensive way, as if you had really 
sized it up completely? 

There are many text-books on rhetoric, many his- 
tories of literature, some annotated editions contain- 
ing directions for the study of particular books. But 
so far no work has appeared which provides system- 
atic instruction in the study of literature itself, ap- 
plicable to every classic, let us say, or to any classic. 

Such a book we now have ready. It is entitled 
How to Study Literature, It is a guide to the study of 
literary productions. Taking up Narrative Poetry 
first, an outline is given, in the form of questions, 
which will lead the student to comprehend the sub- 
ject matter, to analyze the structure, to study the 
characters, the descriptions, the style, and the metre — 
of such a work for example as Tennyson's "Princess" 
or Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner." Next follows 
Lyric Poetry, with questions for the study of the 
thought, the mood, the style, the metre; and sug- 
gestions for comparative study and collateral reading. 
In a similar way the drama, the essay, the oration 
and the novel are taken up, and questions given which 
will lead to a full comprehension of the work studied. 

The author is a successful teacher in one of the 
great normal schools. The book grew up in the class 
room, and so is practical in every detail, not only- 
adapted for class use in schools, but also the very thing 
for literary societies, reading circles, and fireside study. 

The list of terms it contains to designate any 
literary quality or characteristic one may wish to 
describe, is alone worth having. 



How to Study Literature 

Price J5 cents^ postpaid 
HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers of 

Commencement Parts (all kinds), $1.50 

Palmer's New Parliamentary Manual, 75 cents 

How to Attract and Hold an Audience, $1.00 

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SchcQolbooks of ail .publisher's at o:^: stgrc 



Practical Subjects 

cloth— Price 50 cents Postpaid — twelvemo. 
To how many of the following questions can you give off-hand, 
a clear, straightforward, and reasonably complete answer? If you 
are a parent, how about your children ? If a teacher, how about 
your pupils? Every citizen should be able to answer these questions. 

What is Barter ? What is a Tax ? 

What is Money ? High and Low Taxes ? 

Silver Question ? What is a Corporation- 

How did Paper come to be Mills ? 

used in Place of Coin ? What is a Corporation — 

What are Greenbacks ? Railroads ? 

What is Irredeemable Paper What is a Strike ? 

Money ? and What are Debt and Saving ? 

Bluebacks ? What are Savings Banks ? 

What are United States Bonds ? Endowment Orders, 1895 ? 

Will the ability to name the vegetable and mineral products of 
Uruguay and Turkey be as useful to a boy throughout life as a 
knowledge of such subjects as those named above ? The elementary 
education of our children is designed to include those subjects which 
will best fit the majority for practical life as citizens. With most 
children practical life begins when they leave the grammar school. 
The question as to course of study is chic rly one of selection; and 
should we not consider whether, in our public schools, certain of 
the more practical studies are not sometimes crowded out for the 
less useful ones? 

It is universally conceded that a great body of our voters lack 
knowledge of even the simple laws underlying the questions of the 
day. Many possess but a vague idea as to the source of Government 
revenues; and, resulting from this, there exists that widespread semi- 
impression that the Government has unlimited supplies of money, 
and that no harm can befall from a lavish expenditure of this public 
money. Now by treating a few of the more practical questions in a 
way simple enough for a child to comprehend, may not our school 
children be given right ideas at the outset? Accomplish this and. 
when they are called upon in after years to vote on social or practical 
subjects, they will not be so wholly unprepared as now. 

In this book the authors in a style at once lucid and simple have 
presented the topics above enumerated in a manner to enable children 
of grammar school age to grasp them. Following the discussion of 
each topic there are interesting questions designed to test the stu- 
dent's knowledge, and these questions are so arranged that the 
teacher in the schools may use the subject matter in any or every 
shape as -material for composition work which, we can assure the 
teacher public, will prove far more interesting while quite as profit- 
able both to pupils and teachers as the work in composition generally 
done in schools along other lines. 

Hinds & Noble, Publishers ' 

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Sih.™2iH*ki of ad pul.lit.heis a* one store 



AText=Book on Le tter= Writing 

cloth— 75 ce nts Postp aid— 165 pages 

Believing that the social and business career of 
our youth demands that as much attention should be 
bestowed upon Letter-Writing in our schools, as 
upon Grammar, Orthography, Penmanship, and 
other elementary studies, we have published a text- 
book showing the correct structure, composition, and 
uses of the various kinds of letters, including busi- 
ness letters. There have been added classified lists 
of abbreviations, foreign words and phrases most fre- 
quently used ; and important postal information. 

Our endeavor has been not only to produce just the book to 
guide the youth and the adult in social correspondence and the 
business man in commercial letter- writing, but also to provide the 
teacher with a text-book that can with confidence be placed in the 
hands of the pupils, boys and girls, to be studied by them like a 
text- book on any other subject for class recitations. That our 
book has been carefully planned for this purpose, and the matter 
conveniently arranged for class-room work, the following list of 
the contents bears evidence : 

Part I.— Letters, Notes, and Postal Cards. 
KINDS OF LETTERS. Social, Domestic, Introductory ; Business, 
Personal, Official ; Miscellaneous; Public, or Open. Postal Cards. 
STRUCTURE OF LETTERS. Materials; The Heading, The Intro- 
duction, The Body, The Conclusion, Folding, The Superscrip- 
tion, The Stamp. Type-writer Correspondence. 
THE RHETORIC OF LETTERS. General Principles, Special Ap- 
plications. Style and Specimens of Social Letters ; of Business 
Letters ; of Notes. 

Part II.— Orthography and Punctuation. 
RULES. For Forming Derivatives, etc.; For Capitals ; For Punctua- 
tion ; Special Rules. 

Part III.— Miscellaneous. 
Classified Abbreviations ; Foreign Words, Phrases; Postal In- 
formation. 

To teachers we will send postpaid at 20% discount one examination copy 
with a view to introduction, if this leaflet is enclosed with the order. 



HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers of 

How to Punctuate Correctly, Price 25c. 

Likes and Opposites (Synonyms and Antonyms), Price 50c. 

Composition Writing Made Easy, Price 75c. 

Bad English, Price 30c. 

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A New Speller 

5,000 COMMON WORDS 
ONE SHOULD KNOW HOW TO SPELL 

Price, 25 Cents 

Contents 

Words Met in General Reading and Used in Ordinary 
Conversation 

Words of Similar Pronunciation, but of Different Spell- 
ing and Meaning 

Words often Confounded either in Spelling, Pronuncia- 
tion or Meaning 
Words Spelled the Same, but Differently Accented 
Terminations often Confounded 
Rules for Correct Spelling 
Rules for Capitalization 
Rules for Punctuation 
Words used in Business 
General Abbreviations 
Proper Names 
Table of Diacritical Marks, etc. 

In cases of introduction we will deliver this book 
at 20<£ discount =20 cents net per copy — and will take 
in exchange Spellers in use and make reasonable allow- 
ance for them. Ask us questions. 

HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers 
3J-33-35 West J5th St- New York City 

Sample copy will be sent for inspection if desired* 



NEW DIALOGUES AND PLAYS 

PRIMARY— INTERMEDIATE— ADVANCED 

Adapted from the popular works of well-known authors by 

BINNEY GUNNISON 

Instructor in the School of Expression, Boston; 
formerly Instructor in Elocution in Worcester Acad- 
emy and in the Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute, 

Cloth, 650 Pages - Price, $J.50 

Too many books of dialogues have been published with- 
out any particular reference to actual performance on plat- 
form or stage. There are no suggestions of stage business ; 
the characters neither enter nor leave ; while the dialogue 
progresses, no one apparently moves or feels emotion. Noth- 
ing is said at the beginning of the dialogue to show the situa- 
tion of the characters; no hints are given as to the part 
about to be played. In plays, as ordinarily printed, there is 
very little to show either character or situation — all must be 
found out by a thorough study of the play. This may be 
well for the careful student, but the average amateur has no 
time, and often only little inclination, to peruse a whole play 
or a whole novel in order to play a little part in an enter- 
tainment. 

Perhaps the strongest feature of our book is the carefully 
prepared introduction to each dialogue. Not only are the 
characters all named in order of importance, but the charac- 
teristics, the costumes, the relation of one to another, age, 
size, etc. , are all mentioned. Most important of all is what 
is called the "Situation." Here the facts necessary to a 
clear comprehension of the dialogue following are given 
very concisely, very briefly, but, it is hoped, adequately for 
the purpose in hand. The story previous to the opening of 
the dialogue is related ; the condition of the characters at 
the beginning of the scene is stated ; the setting of the plat- 
form is carefully described. 

There has been no book of dialogues published containing 
so much of absolutely new material adapted from the best 
literature and gathered from the most recent sources — this 
feature will be especially appreciated. 

May we send you a copy for inspection subject to your 
approval ? 

HINDS & NOBLE 

Publishers of 3-Minute Declamations for College Men 

3-Minute Readings for College Girls, Handy Pieces to Speak 

Acme Declamation Book, Pros & Cons (Complete Debates) 

' '^Timencement Parts (Orations, Essays, Addresses), Pieces for Prize 

Speaking Contests (in press). 

31-33-35 West *5th St New York City 



Commencement Parts. 

cloth— Price $1.50 Postpaid— twelvemo 

Here is a book full of the real thing, and con» 
taining nothing but the real thing 1 

The models here — every one a complete address 
— are not composed by the compiler to show what 
he would say if he should happen to be called on for 
a class poem, or an ivy song ; a valedictory, or an 
oration; a response to a toast, an essay, a recitation, or 
what-not. Not at all! But every one of the "efforts'* 
In this book is real — in the sense that it is what some 
one did do on the particular occasion when he actu- 
ally had to stand up and speak. This entitles them 
to be designated models in a genuine sense. 

If you are called upon, for any occasion (no 
matter what) during your whole high-school or college 
career, and wish a model to show how some one else 
has risen to a similar opportunity, we think you will 
discover by a glance at the list of contents of Com» 
mencement Parts some illustration of exactly what 
you require. Note also the lists of class mottoes* 
subjects for orations, essays, themes, toasts, etc. 

Besides the above we publish also the following, of interest to 
those who have to ' ' appear in public on the stage. ' ' And we can't 
think of any " effort' ' throughout one's whole career that is not 
provided for — from the little tot's first curt'sy, and along through 
the school and college years, to the debate of important civic 
problems by the adult before his fellow citizens : — 

Pros and Cons. Both sides of live question?. $1,501 
Playable Plays. For school and parlor. $1.50 
College Men's Three-Minute Declamations. $1.00* 
College Maids' Three-Minute Readings. $1.00. 
Pieces for Prize-Speaking Contests. $1.00. 
Acme Declamation Book. Paper, 30c. Cloth, 50c. 
Handy Pieces to Speak. 108 on separate cards. 60c. 
list of " Contents n of any or all of above free on request if you mention 
this ad. 
HIHDS & NOBLE, Publishers, 
31-33-35 West 15th St *- T - «ty. 

Schoolbooka of all publishers at one store. 



Contents of "Commencement Parts." 



xauor 
(a) 



}• Introduction to Commencement Parts* 

2* The Orator and the Oration* 

(a) The Orator. 

(b) The Oration. 

(c) The Parts of the Oration. 

3* Commencement Parts* 

(/) A Latin Salutatory. De Nostro Cum Aliis Civitatibus 

Agendi Modo. 
(*) Orations. 

American Ideals. 
Culture and Service. 

Education as Related to Civic Prosperity* 
id) Hebraism and Culture. 
I*) Marc Antony. 
If) Modern Knighthood. 
(£•) The Negro and the South. 
\ h) The Decisive Battle of the Rebellion. 
it) The University and True Patriotism. 
if) The Discipline of Life and Character. 
I k) The Liberalistic Temper, 
f /) The Spirit that Should Animate. 
( m) Reverence Due from the Old to the Young* 
Appropriate Subjects for the Oration (1-136). 
Valedictories. 

(a ) ' ' Perduret atque Valeat ' ' (Latin)* 
ib) Service. 

( c) For a Dental College. 
\d) For a College. 
\e) For a School. 
(/) For a College. 
{g) Good Day. 

LIBERALISM, 
(j) Mixed Valedictory and Oration : Catholicity* 

Class Day Exercises. 

(7) Introduction. 
{2) Class Poems. 

(a) O Years You Have Vanished. 

(b) The Breath of the Spirit, 
\c) Home. 

(d) A Vision. 

(e) Alma Mater. 

(3) President's Address. 

(4) Salutatory. 



81 



Class Day Exercises {continued)* 
(j) Dux's Speech. 

S6) Ivy Oration. 
f) Class Song. 

(8) Ivy Oration. 

(9) Class Will. 
(10) Ivy Oration. 
(a\ Ivy Poem. 

(12) Ivy Song. 

(13) Class Oration— The Old and New, 

(14) Washington's Birthday Oration. 
(73) Presentation Oration. 

(16) Class Oration — Abraham Lincoln* 
(if) Class Mottoes (1-42). 

The Composition and Essay. 
(/) Introductory Suggestions. 

(a) Model Outline of Composition 

lb) Model Outline of Essay. 

\c) Brief Essay. 
(2) Compositions. 

(a) Autumn. 

(b) What Makes the Sky Blue? 

(c) The Beauties of Nature. 

(d) Winter Leaves. 
(j) Essays. 

(a) Beatrice. (Character Study.) 

(b) Independent Character. (Descriptive.) ^ 

(c) Ruskin's « Ethics of the Dust." (Critical.) 

(d) Edward Rowl and Sill. (Literary.) s 

(e) Intellectual Improvement, an Aid to the Inui 

agination. (Philosophical Disputation.) 
(/) The Survival of the Fittest in Literature. 

(Literary Discussion.) 
(g) "Una." (Analytical.) 
(h) Thomas Chatterton. (Prize College Essay.) 

(f) Kipling's Religion. (Literary.) 

(j} The Reaction Against the Classics. (Colloquy.) 

(k) Memory's Message. (Dedicatory.) 

(/) Manual Training and Intellectual Develop* 

ment. (Normal School Prize Essay.) 
(m) True Nobility. (A College Prize Essay.) 
(«£) Subjects for Composition. 

(a) Narrative (1-35). 

(b) Descriptive (1-55). 
(j} Themes for Essays (1-53). 






#» After-Dinner Speafciag» 

(7) Introductory Suggestions. 

(^) An Address of Welcome at an Alumni Dinner (Is 
Honor of the College President). 

(3) Response to a Toast, " Yale and Princeton." 

(4) Response to a Toast, " The Puritan and the Dutch* 

man." 

(5) Response to a Toast, " The Plain People/' 

(6) Response to a Toast, " Woman." 

• (7) Response to a Toast, "A Business Man's Political 
Obligations. ' * 

(8) Response to a Toast, "The Sorereignty of the United 

States." 

(9) Response to a Toast, " Recollection the Strongest In- 

fluence.' ' 
tio) Response to a Toast, " The Future of the Nation.'*! 
f 11) An After-Dinner Story. 
\i2) A List of Toasts (I-40). 

7. Flag Day* 

(7) Introduction. 

(2) Recitation for a Boy or Girl. 

(3) Recitation — Our Country. 

(4) Recitation — The Stars and Stripe^ 
(/) Address— Old Glory. 

(6) Address — The Voice of the Flag. 

8* Words of the National Airs. 

(7) Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean. 

(2) Hail Columbia. 

(3) America. 

(4) The Star-Spangled Banner, 
(jr) Our Flag is There. 

♦• Speeches for National Holidays* 

(7) Independence Day Address. 

(2) Lift up Your Hearts. (Fourth of July.) 

(3) Lincoln the Immortal. (Lincoln's Birthday.) 

(4) Washington's Birthday Address. 

(5) Washington's Birthday. 

(6) Tree Planting. (A Poem for Arbor Day.) 

(7) Decoration Day Address. 

(£) Memorial Day Ode — Our Honored Dead. 



10* Occasional Addresses, 
(i) Religious. 

(a) Growth. An Address before a Christian 

Endeavor Convention. 
(J>) To be Kings among Men. A Chapel Ad- 
dress by a College President. 
(<r) The Culture of the Imagination. Address be- 
fore a Young Men's Christian Association, 
(*) Political. 

(a) The Cross of War. Delivered in the Con- 
gress of the United States. 
(J?) Heroes of the ' * Maine Disaster. ' ' Delivered 
to the National House of Representatives. 
(?) Social. 

(a ) The Obligations of "Wealth. A Washington's 

Birthday Address. 

(b) An Address to Northern and Southern Vet- 

erans at Chickamauga. 
{&) An Address before the Order of Elks. 

(c) A Poem for a Silver Wedding. 

(ct) An Address at the Dedication of a Memorial 
Tablet. 

(e) Presentation of a Flag to a Regiment Depart- 
ing for War. 

(/) Presentation Address to a Foreman by a 
Workman. 
fl) Educational. 

(a) The Higher Education. An Address before 
a Body of Educators. 

(3) Dedication of a School Building. An Address 
of Welcome. 

(t) Wealth and Progress. An Address at the 
Dedication of a Public Building. 

(d) An Address on Presenting the Keys of a New 

School Building. 

(e) An Address to a School Graduating Class by 

a Teacher. 
(/) Remarks to a Graduating Class of Young 

Ladies by a Visitor. 
(g) An Address to a Graduating Class of Nurses. 
{h) Address to a School Graduating Class by a 

Clergyman. 
it) Dedication of a Public Library. 
I/) Address to a Graduating Class by a Financier. 
ffc) Address before an Educational Convention. 

Foreign Influence vy?on American Uni« 

▼ersity Life, 



tQ» Occasional Addresses (continued)* 

(/) Success in Life. An Address before a Busi- 
ness College. 

(m) Address before a College Graduating Class. 

(n) Inaugural Address of a President of a Uni- 
versity. 

(<?) An Address on Receiving the Degree of 
Doctor of Laws from a University. 

(f) The Presiding Officer's Address at a College 
Debate. 

(q) The Influence of the Great Teacher. An 
Address before College Alumni. 

(r) Response of a College Professor to a Compli- 
mentary Resolution. 
($) Festival Days. 

( a ) A Thanksgiving Speech. 

( b ) A Thanksgiving Day Address. 

( c ) An Exercise Around the Christmas Tree. 

(d) A Mock Menu for a March Banquet. 

(e) A Banquet Menu. 

(/) A Thanksgiving Song. 
(fi) Miscellaneous Abstracts. 

( a ) At the Dedication of a Hall of Science and 

Art. 
(3) Response to a Toast, " Noblesse Oblige."— 

(Phi Beta Kappa Banquet.) 
(*) Grand Army Speech. 



Pieces for every Occasion 

By Caroline B. LeRow 

Compiler of ' 'A Well-Planned Course in Reading " 
Bound in cloth Price, $L25 

The selections included in this volume are in harmony 
with the spirit of class room work, which demand brevity, 
simplicity, good sense and sound morality. This is the only 
compilation of the kind in which these matters are considered 
as of equal importance with elocutionary effect. Very few of 
the pieces are to be found in any other book. That Miss 
LeRow has provided pieces for every occasion, the following 
summary bears evidence. The volume contains 

Pieces for Lincoln's Birthday 

Pieces for Flag Day 

Pieces for Washington's Birthday 

Pieces for Easter 

Pieces for Arbor Day 

Pieces for Decoration Day 

Pieces for Graduating and Closing Days 

Pieces for Fourth of July 

Pieces for Thanksgiving Day 

Pieces for Christmas 

Pieces for New Years 

Concert Recitations 

Selections for Musical Accompaniment 

Pieces for Other Less Observed Occasions 
The observance of our poets' birthdays has become such 
a pleasant and profitable custom in our schools, that pieces 
have been provided for these anniversaries as well. Besides 
these selections for special occasions, there will be found a 
large number of recitations suitable for almost any occa~ 
sion. 

You may be interested to know that we also publish 
Handy Pieces to Speak, price 50c, Acme Declamation Book 
50c, Three-Minute Declamations for College Men $1.00, 
Three-Minute Readings for College Girls $1.00, Pieces for 
Prize Speaking Contests $1.25, New Dialogues and Plays 
{primary, intermediate and advanced) $1.50, Commencement 
Parts {valedictories ', salutatories, essays, etc.) $1.50, Pros and 
Cons {both sides of live questions fully discussed) $1.50 — any 
of which we shall be glad to send you on approval. 

HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers 
3J-33-35 West 15th St. New York City 



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Spanish. Prices, $ J. 00 to $2.00. 

EXAMINATION QUESTIONS WITH 
ANSWERS 

Recent College Entrance Examination Questions 
with Answers (in press), $1*50* A Question 
Book on Common School and High School 
Subjects with Answers, $1.50* J 001 Questions 
and Answers (11 kinds), 50c* Recent Civil 
Service Examination Questions with Answers, 
$2*00. A Book Containing Original Valedictories, 
Salutatories, Orations, Essays, Compositions* etc** 
$1*50. 

TRANSLATIONS 

Literal and Interlinear, 144 "W es* Prices, 
50 cents and $1*50* 

HELPS FOR TEACHERS 

Mistakes in Teaching — How to Correct Them* 
by Miss Preston s Assistant, $1*00* Composition 
Writing Made Easy, 75c* New Dialogues and 
Plays, $1*50* A New Speller, 25c* Page's 
Theory and Practice of Teaching with Questions 
and Answers, 50c* German Texts with V ocabu- 
laries, 50c* Completely Parsed Caesar, Book I* 
(in press), $1*50* How to Become Quick at 
Figures, $1*00* Gordy's New Psychology, $1*25* 
A Text Book on Letter Writing, 75c* How to 
Punctuate Correctly, 25c* A Book of Synonyms 
and Antonyms, 50c. Debates (Both Sides of 
Live Questions Fully Discussed), $1*50* A New 
Speaker, $1,00* Teachers' Class Register* 50c* 

„ HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers 

Never too busy to answer questions 
31-33-35 West 15th St* New York City 



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